Sublime Providence
by thatguy63
Summary: D'Argo Sun Crichton embarks on his destined journey with more plot twists than a bag of Farscape pretzels.
1. Epiphanies and Soup Ladles

Title: Sublime Providence  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: Post-PKW  
Time Period: Moves around a bit, 16-22 years after the PKW ended.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Farscape, except my imagination.

Authors Note: There is a lot of great Farscape fan-fiction out there, so thanks for giving this a look. Feedback, positive and negative, is greatly appreciated and taken with an open mind. A big thanks to Chaz for her insightful help during the BETA process.

8/9/07- I wanna thank new readers and old friends alike for sticking with this tale. I appreciate you taking the time to read our story, because it's as much yours as it will ever be mine.

**Chapter 1: Epiphanies and Soup Ladles**

D'Argo braced himself for the next tremor, biting down hard on the bloody cloth in his mouth. It tasted sour and metallic, but it was the only thing that kept him from biting off his tongue. It hit him again with more force than the last. His spine arched as the blood flowed from his nose and ears. His vision blurred from the blood seeping out of his tear ducts. It like his mind was being carved from the inside out. Sharp needle-like pain accompanied the horrific sensation of his mind being squeezed like a fruit. Over the anguish he could hear her screaming for him; the longing and terror in her voice made him focus.

Amber Lind was crouched a safe distance away, in case D'Argo became violent. The only thing worse than the agony he felt was that it might inadvertently hurt her. He focused on her voice, reminding him that the pain would pass. His back felt like it was about to snap in half, then as quickly as it took him, the pain dissipated. His flaccid body collapsed back to the thin mat, the only thing separating him from the cold metal floor of the cargo bay. She rushed back to him, trying to clean the blood from his face as best she could. He gave her a weak and exhausted smile.

"What can you possibly be smiling about," she said through fear-gritted teeth and discerning eyes.

"Just glad to have a reminder I'm not in hell," he said, raising an exhausted arm up to draw his finger across her flushed cheek. Even in the dimly-lit cargo hold, surrounded by rusting metal and grimy walls, she looked radiant. Her amber eyes caught the dim light and D'Argo held onto them as if they were the only thing keeping him from falling deeper into the abyss.

She felt like screaming, crying, running or all three at that same time; anything but smiling. But she loved him; she loved him so much that the word itself had no meaning anymore. They had been in each other's lives for many cycles growing up, but the last two especially, since they left Molina, had brought them together. They had become a single entity, an amalgam of souls. Because of this, she forced a smile to her lips and continued to clean him up. This tremor had been the worst yet.

_That tralk of a Peacekeeper said it was going to get worse before it gets better, but if gets much worse he won't survive,_ she thought as her brow creased with worry.

He read the concern in her face. "Don't worry, baby, the buzzing is almost gone."

"I don't know if you can survive another tremor."

"I have to." The familiar wry grin was forming on his lips.

"And why is that?" she asked, unable to resist the bait.

"Because we haven't lived happily ever after yet," he said sincerely. Unfortunately, his sentiment was lost in the oppressive weight of their condition. Never would their lives be simple again, never would they be people whose worries would come and go like the breeze. Never again would they be those teenagers on Molina, fighting to outgrow their own lives.

The sun hung low on the horizon, its pink and violet shades slowly giving way to the night. D'Argo sat on the hood of his 'Deuce Coup', as his father liked to call it, dreading the eventuality of what was coming. Slowly at first, the pinpoints of light started to break through the colors of the setting sky. Their luminosity, at first dull, became more and more brilliant until the backdrop was no longer deep colors, but endless black. The millions of glimmering stars stared at him, mocking him.

Longing stole into his very soul; to join them in the heavens and embrace their sheer wonder. He used to love watching the stars, hearing his father speak of constellations that only he and his mother knew of and the stories they told him. Now, he looked not with awe but deep resentment. Over the last few weekens the craving to reach them had become stronger and stronger. He at first attributed it to the same thing his parents did. Youth, and the need to be independent, but sitting here tonight, he knew there was something more to it. It was as if there was a part of him that simply refused to stay on this planet any longer.

"Pretty, huh?" the familiar voice from behind him said.

D'Argo was not surprised that he'd come, but he wasn't sure of his intention. Was this going to be a lecture or an apology?

"Not as pretty as the show you and Mom put on tonight. Do you two _practice_ making my life miserable?" D'Argo said, deciding to take the offensive.

"Hey, it's not our fault. That guy is scumball and you know it." John's arms opened wide with the obvious.

This evening had been the culmination of three cycles of behind-the-back comments and not-so-subtle jabs between the Crichtons and Lind's father, Wellik Thanos. He was the Justice Prefect and he didn't like anything that was not Sebacean to be in his presence, much less date his daughter. As for D'Argo's parents, they were not well known for keeping their tongues in check.

The highlight of the disastrous dinner had come when Prefect Thanos called Aeryn an "inter-species tralk" and John referred to one of the most powerful leaders in the city as something called a "douche bag". Of course, nothing could compare to his mother taking out the Prefect's entire personal guard with, of all things, a soup ladle.

"You're right, Dad, he is a scumball. He belittles me every chance he gets," D'Argo said, climbing down from the hood and walking to meet his father. "But you know what? I endure it. Day in and day out, because I love her!"

He saw the familiar look grow across his father's face.

"Don't you frelling say it!" D'Argo interjected before he could tell him, "You're too young to know what love is," for the umpteenth time.

"D'Argo, listen to me, son, I know you're upset about how it went down tonight. But that's not the only thing bothering you, is it? You've been on edge for the past few weekens. What has got you so wrung up?" John took pride in the fact he could read his son. Partly because his own father had had so much trouble reading him as he grew up, and partly because it was like looking into a mirror.

"I just feel closed in and like my legs have been cut out from underneath me," D'Argo spoke solemnly. "I've got to go up there, Dad, at least once. It's driving me...bananas," he said, knowing that using Earth terms often got his father to soften up. It was a trick his mother had taught him and he used it often.

"Nice try," John replied with a grin. "But we have been over this. It is too dangerous for you to go offworld…"

"And why is that, Dad?" his eyes daring him.

John was not sure if his son was ready to hear this again.

"Just frelling say it! I'm a freak!" D'Argo shouted, breaking the silence that stretched between them.

"You are _not_ a freak, just..." John struggled for the right words. "Special? Different? Unique?"

"No, Dad. Having a human father would make someone special. Having a Luxan name, when you are obviously not Luxan, would make someone different. Being an entirely new species in the universe, would make someone unique. But all at the same time? That makes me a freak, Dad." There was no anger in his voice anymore, perhaps the clearest indication that this had been brewing for awhile.

The tears were welling up now and his face contorted with rage, but also guilt. He saw the hurt in his father's eyes and that made him feel worse. Most fathers would simply walk away or recite platitudes, but John merely walked over and embraced his son.

"You graduate next scholastic cycle. We'll talk then."

The fire blazed in front of them, like it was fueled by their urge for freedom and independence. The scene around them was the type of chaos that youth thrived in;close to a hundred young men and women, drinking fellip nectar and partying as if the sun itself would never rise again. The mood was celebratory and defiant. They had graduated that afternoon and endured the customary family dinners, and now they met to drown themselves in their own glory.

D'Argo stared at the fire, with a passed-out Lind on his lap, both their minds swimming in the alcoholic nectar. Across from them sat Relex Staaf, a bottle of raslak in one hand and a cute blonde in the other. He seemed to be having great trouble deciding on which one to taste, so he alternated. He had a slim but muscular build that made him very popular with females. However, it was the gleam in his eye that always seemed to lead him and D'Argo into trouble. His father was the most prominent lawyer in the city, so they typically escaped the usual penalty for their 'transgressions'.

To their left sat Goll Wethern, skinny and pale and seemingly uncomfortable in his own body. When D'Argo's father had first met him, he'd struggled to hold back the laughter that wanted to jump out. Later that night, when D'Argo asked him what was so funny, he said through a grin, "I cannot believe you're hanging out with Anthony Michael Hall."

After he explained the reference and the characters the actor usually portrayed, D'Argo himself could not help but laugh at how similar they were.

"This is it, brother! We are free," Relex said expansively to D'Argo. His father had instilled in him since birth that only family could be trusted and that all those who were not blood were strangers. So, almost as if to appease his own conscience, he had been calling D'Argo "brother" for cycles now, as if to justify the trust he put in his best friend.

"Free to do what?" D'Argo asked, taking the bottle from his hand while being careful not to drop Lind. "You're going to start your apprenticeship downtown at the law office," after taking a swig he pointed the bottle at Goll. "You're going to start yours at the spaceport, my girl here is going to become Daddy's little secretary, and I'll start at my Dad's shop. Make no mistake, my friends, school may be over but we are a long way from being free," D'Argo said somberly, taking yet another draw from the bottle

"Oh, not this again," Goll said, rolling his eyes. "Face facts, D, your Dad runs the coolest mod garage in the city, you have a Prefect's daughter as a girlfriend, and your Mom, in case you haven't noticed, is hot!"

This, of course, prompted the same response it always did when one of his friends commented on his mother's beauty. Mock anger and a sharp punch in the arm.

"He's got a point, brother," Relex said. D'Argo cut his eyes towards him. "About the situation, I mean. It could be a lot worse."

"Don't you guys ever feel like there's something more out there? That the universe itself was calling out to you?" D'Argo said, almost pleading.

Both Relex and Goll recognized the look in their friend's eye, and neither welcomed it.

"Why don't you go grab another bottle of raslak, sweetie," Relex said, moving the girl off him. She left in a huff. "What are you getting at, D?"

"I say we plan a little trip." D'Argo said as innocently as possible.

"Oh, frell," Goll said, as that feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when they were about to do something stupid returned.

D'Argo had been thinking about this for the last few days and had been waiting for the right time to spring it on them. Now was as good as any.

"We have like eight weekens before our apprenticeships start, right?"

"Right..." Relex and Goll drawled in unison.

"Well, I say instead of staying here and getting drunk and goofing off, we seize the opportunity and get off this frelling rock!"

"And go where?" Goll asked.

"Frell, anywhere! We hop on the first flight that strikes us and we just...I dunno, explore."

"You forgotten about the bio-mod scanners, D?" Relex inquired, raising an eyebrow.

The main reason D'Argo had not simply left on a whim before was that any passenger boarding a ship had to pass through a bio-scanner. This device detected if a passenger was carrying any contagion or other chemical or biological agent that was considered unsafe. The problem was that it also detected what species the passenger was.

While the war may have been over, D'Argo knew that there were a lot of people in the galaxy that would like to get their hands on John Crichton's son. Walking through that scanner would immediately launch a red flag that would resonate further than just the planet of Molina. D'Argo's true identity was a secret that only the people sitting around the fire and a few select governing leaders knew. Regrettably, Lind's prejudiced father being one of them.

"Well, that's where I'm hoping Goll can give us a hand."

At the mention of his name, he went a few shades paler.

"Ohhh, no," he said standing up. He could read in his face exactly what D'Argo wanted him to do. Goll had been helping his father install the new security system fail safes for the past few weekens and in doing so he had become intimately familiar with their inner workings. The bio-scanners included.

"C'mon, Goll," Relex said, also seeing D'Argo's intention. "You go in there, this wire goes here, that wire goes there and poof. D here is a purebred Sebacean."

"No, no, no," Goll exclaimed, now pacing and waving his arms. "Besides, I would have to be at the console when he went through the scanner to make the change and they don't let anyone near those things during check-in."

"You could go in after hours and program it to do it automatically when it senses D'Argo's unique biological structure," Lind interjected, apparently not as drunk, nor as passed out for that matter, as she had appeared.

"She's right," Relex affirmed, unable to suppress the grin. He sensed adventure, opportunity and most of all, that it would piss off his father.

"I don't know guys…"

"Oh, grow some mivonks! This will be the best time of your life!" Relex said, slapping his timid friend on the back as if to knock the uncertainty out of him.

Relex entered the bay when D'Argo's screaming abated. He wanted to be there for his friend, but he was glad someone had to be a look-out. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing D'Argo be tortured by his own mind. Again.

"Hallway is clear," Relex reported, helping Lind clean the blood up.

"Well, aren't I the lucky one?" D'Argo said, leaning forward. The spikes that had formed in his mind were replaced by dizziness and the worst headache yet.

"C'mon, let's get you back to your quarters and cleaned up. We should be landing in a few arns."

Relex and Lind helped him to his feet. D'Argo took one step and his knees buckled. As always, before he could hit the ground, Relex caught him.

"Usually when I do this, you've had too much to drink."

"Don't worry, brother, when this is all said and done, I plan on getting really, _really_ drunk."

"What do we say if someone sees him?" Lind asked as they entered the hallway. D'Argo looked like he'd just gone a few rounds with a face-punching machine.

"We'll just tell them I hit him," Relex said sardonically.

"Ha, you _wish_ you could take me," D'Argo said, reflexively wincing from the pain laughing caused him.

"Well, it seems someone doesn't remember our 6th scholastic cycle on the recreation grounds."

"You hit me when I wasn't looking, as I recall," D'Argo said dryly.

"Teach you to steal my dessert at lunch." Relex said cuttingly.

They all laughed at that, but the moment of levity was all-too-brief.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Relex asked, his tone hinting at the uneasy feeling in his gut.

"No, I don't. But she is the only person out there who seems to know what is going on inside my head."

"What about your father?" Lind asked. "Doesn't he at least have a right to know that she exists?"

She didn't like the fact that D'Argo was keeping his parents in the dark about all this. D'Argo had insisted that they should not try and contact their families back on Molina since they had discovered they were being hunted. That was almost two cycles ago.

She wondered what her father was doing, if he was out looking for her or if he had simply stopped caring. She knew D'Argo often thought of his parents but there had been little time to reflect lately.

"Of course he does and I'll tell him when we get back."

_If we get back_, they all thought, but were too daunted to say.


	2. Much to Young to Feel This Damn Old

**Chapter 2: Much Too Young to Feel This Damn Old**

"Alright, everyone, just calm down!" John said, trying to fully grasp the scene before him. What had started as a calm attempt for the parents to meet and figure out where their children had disappeared to, quickly escalated into a verbal brawl. Biqur Staaf, Relex's overly dressed attorney father, quickly accused Goll's unassuming father of incompetence and threatened, as he put it, "To sue you until I own your very thoughts!"

This led to Mr. Weleth nailing the Justice Prefect, Lind inscrutable father, on spaceport budget concerns, "Well, if I had the adequate funding I requested, I would not have had to use my son to get the upgrades installed on time!"

This of course brought the Prefect to the Crichtons, saying, "It's that damn D'Argo! He has kidnapped my daughter!"

And then to bring it full circle, Aeryn accused the good lawyer of having "…a frelling farhbot of a son who was always getting D'Argo into trouble."

If his son were not missing, then John would have found the scene very entertaining, almost like a bad sitcom. Two of the city's most prominent citzens telling each other to:

"Shut up."

"No, _you_ shut up."

Anthony Michael Hall's dad trying to come up with a good insult but only managing a weak, "You're all frelling idiots."

And then there was Aeryn, trembling with self-restraint. She appeared moments away from getting up and going supernova on the entire room until she got some answers or she felt better. Whichever came first. Unconsciously, John moved his silverware out of her reach. 

"Alright," John said, rising to his feet and picking up the Prefect's obviously expensive china plate. With a fluid motion he threw the plate against the dining room wall, its shattering clash bringing the silence he sought. He got an incredulous look from the lawyer and spaceport geek, anger from the Prefect and a look that seemed to suggest, "Wish I had thought of that first" from Aeryn.

"Why don't we all calm down and talk like civilized…beings?" John said retaking his seat, part of him wanting to say humans to get a rise out of the Prefect, but it seemed he had risen enough tonight.

"There are more…civilized ways of getting our attention," the Prefect seethed.

"I know, but I didn't want to bang my fork against the glass. Looks expensive." John commented dryly, eyeing the flute.

Just when the Justice Prefect had reach the level of wrath that usually lead to execution order, Biqur Staaf interjected.

"Mr. Crichton has a point. This bickering is getting us nowhere. I say we examine the facts of the situation," he said, quelling the Prefect.

"Very well. It has been six solar days since graduation and none of our children returned home. At some point during that time, they managed to elude the security at the spaceport, including the bio-scanners and ticket purchase DNA scan. Yesterday, Molina's Intel office received confirmation that a disturbance had taken place on a recreation planet in the next system and the description of the assailants matched our children's. This morning we received word that a sizable bounty had been placed on all their heads by an unknown party." The prefect succinctly stated.

The fact that there was a bounty on their sons and daughters hit them all like a brick. The pettiness and childish behavior seemed to evaporate for a moment as they realized the true danger their children were in. Soon, as their minds began to search for a reason, a person to blame, the squabbling restarted.

As the three men argued, John touched Aeryn's shoulder to keep her from engaging.

"What do you think, honey?" he whispered.

"I think it's obvious that whatever we do, it will be on our own." Her eyes never leaving the three men across from her.

"I figured as much."

"How could they have gotten a bounty on them so quick?" John asked absently. He knew that there were probably still a few people out there looking for him, but the speed at which it had been spread was staggering. A thought formed on Aeryn's brow.

"Prefect, did the bounty have specific instructions about capture?"

"Yes, it said all were to be captured unharmed." Prefect muttered before returning to brow beat whoever would listen.

"Frell," they both said. They knew that if this was merely revenge by someone, then the bounty would have said dead or alive. The fact that they were to be captured unharmed led to only two conclusions; either they wanted something they knew or they would be used as bait to lure out John and Aeryn. The feeling of helplessness was rising again and she had had enough of it.

"Prefect!" Aeryn roared, rising to her feet, her tone commanding silence and her face attention. "This is what you are going to do. You are going to authorize the use of one the city's Macula-class fighters for our use. Staaf, you are going to talk to every lowlife criminal that you have ever defended and find out who put out the bounty on our children. Goll, you're going to hack that recreation planet's data base and find out exactly what happened there and where our children are going." Life as a Peacekeeper had taught Aeryn how to take orders; having a teenage son taught her how to give them.

"You dare give me orders?!" the Prefect had the nerve to look shocked.

"You're damn right we dare! Listen here, Boss Hogg, the only way we are going to get our kids back is if we get to them first," John said, rising to join Aeryn.

"Wait, how do you know that they are not still on the recreation planet?" Weleth asked.

"Because if they were then there would be no bounty to collect. They must have escaped."

The Prefect seemed to mull over the information for a few microts then conceded.

"I will agree to your request, but you will take three of my personal guard with you to offer assistance."

"No, we don't need them."

"You misunderstand, human. This condition is non-negotiable; accept it or I'll throw you both in the lock-up on suspicion of aiding a kidnapper."

"You don't have the mivonks, you slimy..." Aeryn started but was silenced by John grabbing her arm to keep her from storming out or decking the Prefect. Probably both.

"Deal. Have your men and the ship meet us at my garage in 10 arns," John said, leading Aeryn out of the room.

"We do not need his help." Aeryn said as they strode down the hall.

"Yes, we do, Aeryn. Like it or not, we gotta swallow our pride on this and admit we need assistance. We have two of the most famous faces in the galaxy, so it's not like we can go incognito." He reasoned, not happy with their circumstances himself.

D'Argo wearily opened his eyes after the room shuddered, signaling the ship had docked with an inspection station before entering the planet's atmosphere. He thought he was lying prone, but he could hear the soft thump of Lind's heart and smell the scent she placed in her hair. He had fallen asleep resting on her, her arms clasped around his chest as if expecting him to disappear when she finally succumbed to an exhausted sleep.

Across the room, Relex was sprawled out in a chair, his feet propped up on the small table in their quarters. What looked to be an extremely uncomfortable position yielded no sign of discomfort from him as he snored loudly.

Slowly rising from the bed, D'Argo tried not to wake Lind. He entered the refresher and looked at the haggard face before him.

_You look old_, he thought, splashing some water on his face. Hoping that when he looked again the lines and weariness would have washed away down the drain. The last two cycles had changed him so much, he wondered if his parents would even recognize him when they saw him again. At this point he could barely recognize himself. The things he had done to survive would seem almost comical if they were presented to his previous self.

_I would have found another way_, he could hear his former self say.

"There wasn't any other way; we did what we had to do to survive."

_Keep telling yourself that. Keeping trying to justify what you did.  
_  
He wanted to smash the mirror, to destroy the memory of the person he once was and the person he had become. Instead he walked back into the room and began checking their weapons. Three Mark IV pulse pistols, one with the moniker "Molly" etched in its handle, a few extra ammo packs and two incendiary grenades. Of course, these weapons would be useless if she didn't keep her side of the bargain. A few pulse pistols against a platoon of Peacekeepers would be anything but effective. Once again, they were faced with a dire situation and D'Argo could not help but wonder where it had all gone wrong.

They entered the spaceport awash with anxiety and excitement. In order to seize the moment, D'Argo had sent Goll ahead on graduation night to sneak into the spaceport and program the bio-scanner.

"But what terminal will we be departing from?" Goll asked, unsure of their destination.

"The closest planet with booze, broads and little need for clothing!" Relex said without missing a beat.

Lind merely rolled her eyes and D'Argo laughed, "You heard the man. We will meet you there at dawn."

The morning sun was shining brightly through the ornate glass window panes. They were all groggy but Relex's always ready supply of hangover pills worked as usual. They didn't have time to pack their bags so they were traveling burdened only with the graduation money they received and what little savings they had scraped together. However, the look in Relex's eye seemed to suggest he might have dipped into his father's private account.

"We have got a problem," Goll said, materializing from the stairway.

"With the scanners?"

"No, that was easy," Goll said matter-of-factly. "It's the ticket booth. It seems that now a DNA sample must be given in order to purchase a ticket. Seems Lind's paranoid father is worried about criminals skipping town and he wants to know where they are going."

"Frell," D'Argo managed, seeing his dream explode before they could even start the engine.

"Maybe not…" Lind said, something catching her eye. "Goll, isn't that Nabcee over there at the counter?"

"Oh, yeah, it is. Her mother is the head of ticket sales; she must be starting her apprenticeship early."

She was not unattractive by any means, merely plain. Nothing about her stood out and she seemed to blend into whatever environment she was in.

"Now is not the time for gossip and discussions about hair scenting, Lind," Relex snapped, which prompted a sharp elbow in the ribs from D'Argo.

"Are you that oblivious? She has had a crush on you for three cycles, Relex!" Lind said, her eyes wide with utter lack of awareness in him.

"What?" Relex squinted his eyes at her. "I don't even recognize her."

"That's because you're a drannit."

"Perhaps, but how does this change our situation?"

"Well, you're always talking about how smooth you are. Well, brother, time to belly up to the bar," D'Argo said, sensing where Lind was going.

"First of all, stop using Earth terms. It makes you sound like an idiot. Secondly, you guys want an aisle seat or window?"

"I propose a toast!" D'Argo said surging to his feet, swaying from the level of alcohol in his blood. They were all seated around a table with a star-filled sky and a roaring ocean at their backs. They had spent the last few days celebrating their freedom and all wore the bright colors of the native stores.

"Preach, brother!" Relex said.

"To our good friend, Goll. What he lacks in women skills, he more than makes up for in projectile vomiting." They all laughed as Goll blushed. Earlier in the weeken he had too much to drink and approached a young woman. However, instead of a pick-up line coming out his mouth, his dinner did.

"Next, to the charismatic one, Relex Staaf. Whose tongue not only got us here but also got him a trip to the medical office," D'Argo chuckled, alluding to the incident when Relex was seen leaving a dance club one night with an attractive alien only to find himself in the town's medical office due to his allergic reaction to her saliva.

"I'll drink to that!" Relex said, raising his glass.

"Next, the lovely Lind..." D'Argo's eyes and tone softened as he looked at her.

"Is this a toast or a speech?" Goll said through a laugh.

"Lind, there are very few things in this universe that I would endure your father on a daily basis for," D'Argo continued unabated.

"Oh, yeah, what else is there?" she asked, grin firmly on lips.

"Whatever the frell is in this drink."

Again they all shared in a fell about the table with laughter.

At that same moment countless motras away…

"We have a positive identification, Ma'am. You were correct, the scan found them on Kauris IV, the nearest recreation planet." The officer said sharply.

"Do they have any idea they have been scanned?" a calculating voice asked.

"It appears not, Ma'am. The reporting agent signaled from a dance club in the city. He told them he was scanning for weapons before they could enter. They put up no resistance and have made no attempt to leave the planet."

"Send a small collection team. This is off the books, Lieutenant. No uniforms or Peacekeeper vessels. Is that understood?" she barked.

"Yes, Ma'am. I will oversee their retrieval myself."

The next morning, D'Argo awoke in his hotel room trying to will his mind to stop the room from spinning. He took the last of the hangover pills and decided some sea-air would be just the trick to clear his mind. The voyage here had only been a little over a solar day in space, but he could not shake the strange feeling he got when they initially broke the atmosphere. He couldn't explain it to the rest of them, so he didn't bring it up. It was as if something inside him had been dormant but entering space had awakened it.

On his way back to the hotel he stopped at the local pharmacy to pick up some more pills, but his blood ran cold when he glanced over at the hotel entrance. A bloody-nosed and restrained Relex was being ushered out the front door. The men leading wore no uniforms, but were dressed in civilian clothing. However, their gait and constantly scanning eyes gave them away. His mother taught him early on how to recognize a Peacekeeper and today it served him well.

His first instinct was to rush in and check on Lind, but he knew better. If they'd found Relex, then they must know that they were all here. The first thing he had to do was free Relex for back up.

He frantically looked around the pharmacy for something to use as a weapon. His eyes settled on a bottle of Holocene Solution, a disinfectant used to treat wounds given by the occasional sea animal tentacle burn. It was also extremely combustible. Buying a bottle and as well as a rag and lighter, D'Argo bolted out the door. Relex, being the stubborn guy he was, slowed the Peacekeepers down considerably, allowing D'Argo to sprint down the beach out of their sight and eventually pass them. Looking for a good place to ambush, he settled on a four-way stop.

_The more places your enemy has to cover, the better._ His mother's words resonated in his mind.

They seemed unarmed but he knew that wasn't true, they had guns on them somewhere. As they approached, D'Argo expected to feel uneasy or nervous, but the emotions never came. His mind was clear and focused. Waiting until they passed directly beside him, he lobbed the lit bottle directly into their path.

The bottle shattered in a blaze of flame, forcing the three men to jump backwards. As the two Peacekeepers struggled to their feet, D'Argo made his move. The first Peacekeeper reached for the small of his back, but a sharp kick to his face from D'Argo halted the effort. However, he wasn't quick enough to stop the next one. The gun seemed to materialize in his hand and it was pointed directly at his chest.

"Nice try, junior," the man fumed. He looked like he was about to pull the trigger when the man seemed to recognize D'Argo. "You're D'A…"

The man's epiphany was cut short when Relex's boot connected with his rib cage. The Peacekeeper reflexively pulled the trigger but the shot went wide over D'Argo's shoulder. Embracing the adrenaline now flowing in his veins, he leapt on the Peacekeeper with a fury he hadn't known he possessed.

When Relex finally got his attention, his fists were covered in blood and the Peacekeeper before him looked ravaged. Grabbing his weapon, he searched for the keys to Relex's restraints. Finding them and unlocking them, Relex armed himself with the other Peacekeeper's weapon.

"What do you want to do about them?"

A few precious moments later the boys finished handcuffing each of the Peacekeepers' hands over a cross beam under the boardwalk. There was no way for them to escape unless they could take out the body-width size strut...

"We gotta get back and get the others."

"I heard the hezmana twins here talking about the ship that they had concealed. It should be just over the next dune in a cove."

"Ok…" D'Argo said nodding his head.

"You know how to use one of these things?" Relex asked, eyeing the blaster in his hand. Both of D'Argo's parents trained him in using a firearm, but those pulse pistols were out of date now. These were sleeker and less cumbersome.

"Slight bend in the arm, aim for center mass," D'Argo said tapping his finger into Relex's sternum. "Let your finger pull the trigger and not your wrist."

The first room they got to was Goll's. They could hear the muffled struggle through the unsealed door. Motioning for Relex to follow his lead, they both took a deep breath.

"Where are Crichton and Thanos?!" he demanded again, a slap reverberating across the room.

"I don't know," Goll wailed. When Lind and D'Argo checked in, they had made a joke and registered under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Hooman. A joke that seemed to be keeping her safe for the moment.

There was no way of knowing how many Peacekeepers were going to be around the corner. They spun into the room, weapons held high.

"Don't move," D'Argo barked, trying to be intimidating.

One of the two Peacekeepers started to turn around but was halted when a pulse blast whizzed by his ear, burning the wall.

"You _heard_ him," Relex growled, with a look on his face that made D'Argo wonder if he'd missed on purpose.

"Goll, get up," D'Argo ordered. "And get their weapons."

Reluctantly Goll took the pulse pistols from the two Peacekeepers, giving one to D'Argo and clutching the other.

"Both of you two turn around slowly and enter the refresher."

They were both giving D'Argo spiteful looks, but he remember his training and stayed far enough away that if they made a lunge he would get a shot off first.

"Handcuff them to the sink pipe," D'Argo directed. "Relex, take Goll to their ship and get it ready for launch."

"What?! I—"

"Listen, Goll, now is not the time. You have been around starships your entire life and I need you to focus."

"Fine, I can get it prepped but I can't fly it."

"You don't have to. _I_ will."

"What? Since when have you flown anything but atmospheric cargo ships?" Relex admonished.

"It can't be _that_ much different. Frell, it may be easier, no gravity or weather patterns to worry about."

"We are all gonna die."

"Both of you just shut up and get to the ship."

"The inspection station just confirmed. The transport has just been cleared to land; they will be planetside within the arn."

"Excellent, prepare for their arrival."

"You don't have to do this," the man said wearily from the floor.

"You know nothing of what I have to do, Crichton. You are human, flawed and weak."

"How many times do I gotta tell you? Call me Dad."

They were sprinting now as they rounded the stone wall and entered the cove. In the center of the depression in the massive seawall sat their salvation. The ship itself was uninspiring; it was a moderate-sized long-range transport. His father would have called it, 'The Minivan of Space Travel.' The hatch was open in its side and the few steps leading up to it were traversed quickly. As soon as they entered Goll rushed past them mumbling loudly to himself. D'Argo tried to get his attention but he continued on his way to the back of the ship.

"How we comin'?" D'Argo asked, finding Relex in the cockpit.

"The ship is prepped for launch but we can't leave yet," Relex said, exasperated

"What? Why?"

"Frell, I dunno. Goll has been speaking gibberish since we got here. Something about a thing that does a thing and apparently we don't want it to do that particular thing."

D'Argo merely sighed and put his hand on his head. This could not possibly get worse.

"Uhhh, guys?" Lind's tone was leery.

Relex and D'Argo saw what caught her attention out the front viewport of the ship. Coming around the same bend they had moments earlier, were two bloody and pissed-off Peacekeepers, as well as what appeared to be the local authorities.

"_Frell_…!" they all said in unison.

"Time to go to work," D'Argo said, patting Relex's shoulder.

"What do you want me to do?" Lind asked.

"See if there is gonna be anything waiting for us when we get up there." Lind had always been exceptionally talented when it came to interpreting and directing the planetary data streams and seemed naturally at home working on the complicated consoles.

D'Argo and Relex positioned themselves on either side of the open hatchway, backs against the wall. Pistols drawn, they spun and began laying down fire. The two Peacekeepers and three accompanying officers dove for cover. D'Argo's shots were clean and precise; Relex was all over the map. Most of his shots peppered the cove walls and a large boulder.

"You know," D'Argo said as they both retreated behind the wall as the officers returned fire. "You are really bad at this."

"Perhaps..." Relex said as if mulling it over. "But that big rock out there isn't gonna be coming after us anytime soon."

They both laughed and returned fire.

"I think I've found it!" they heard Goll shriek even over the gunfire. In his euphoric daze, he almost wandered directly into the crossfire coming through the open hatchway.

"What the frell is that?" Relex said, alluding to the piece of machinery in their friend's hand. It had frayed wires and had that freshly-ripped-out-of-the-engine look.

"This is the ships tracking device…or…" Goll trailed off.

"What do you mean or?"

"Well, it could also be the fuel cooling processor."

"What!? You mean the part of the engine that regulates the fuel temperature on take-off? The part of the engine that if not engaged will cause us to blow up as soon as we hit ignition?" D'Argos voice kept getting louder.

"You'd be surprised at how similar the parts look."

A brief, disbelieving silence fell between the friends as they all stared at the offending part.

"I'm gonna shoot him," Relex ground out between clenched teeth, leveling his weapon.

"What?!" Goll squeaked.

"Just once, you'll be ok."

"Enough, we have got to get out of here. Here, trade." D'Argo said, holding out his pistol and taking the part from Goll's hand. "You two keep shooting, I'm gonna go light this candle."

"I've never…" Goll said, looking at the blaster dangling uselessly from his fingers.

"Don't worry; you can't be any worse than Relex," D'Argo said snidely, a strong "Frell you!" accompanying his departure.

"I think I have got us a clear path out of here. What is that?" Lind asked as he entered the cockpit.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

He took a moment to admire her lithe body before entering the room and alerting her to his presence. She was tall and thin, with her hair loosely layered on the pillow as she slept. It was jet black and seemed to accentuate her lighter skin tones. However, her most impressing feature were the cool blue eyes that could alternately scour or warmly welcome you. She had learned well from her mother, while never going as far Grayza had to gain influence over men. She did learn, however, that even in the most disciplined of armies, the allure of a beautiful woman is unrelenting.

"Hello, Felina," he said slowly, wondering if she would jump at the sound of his voice.

"What do you want?" she asked sullenly, hoping her tone of disenchantment covered the apprehension she felt whenever he was around.

"The same thing you want, my dear."

"I see," her tone warming, becoming more seductive. She crossed the room gracefully to him, watching his eyes to see how closely they followed her hips as she walked, sheer sleeping gown hugging every curve.

"And what is it that I want?" she whispered, slowly walking around him, running a finger over the smooth, hard surface of his shoulder. She had tried this many times before, but to no avail. Both her beauty and stature had made it easy to have even the most hardened officers swooning over her. But he was different.

As she slowly reached his front again, she brought both hands to his shoulders and willed him with her eyes. He seemed to relent just for a moment, a change in breathing or perhaps a different line in his brow. Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist and flung her backwards, forcing her to fall back on her bed.

"We do not have time for this foolishness, child!"

"Soon, that's all we will have. My agents have already landed on the recreation planet, the boy will be here within a solar day."

"What?!" he yelled furiously. "You were under strict orders not to send a Peacekeeper contingent after him!"

"I didn't," she said defensively, rebuked by his recrimination. "I sent some of my own personal guard. They went out of uniform and off the 'net. No one will know they are Peacekeepers."

"You had better pray you are right, Felina. Otherwise your usefulness to me will have ceased to be."

"You do not scare me."

"I should," Scorpius assured her with silken menace.


	3. Doctor Who?

**Chapter 3: Doctor Who?**

"Where exactly are we going?" Goll asked. They had been traveling at maximum hetch for a few arns now. By all accounts they had gotten free of the planet; no craft appeared in pursuit. Relex and Goll had taken up seats behind them in the cockpit and monitored their respective consoles, making sure nothing was coming up on the sensor horizon. Although D'Argo had the distinct impression that Relex had no idea what the frell he was doing.

"I don't know, Goll, I'm open to suggestions," D'Argo said, swiveling to face them.

"How about home?" he asked as if the thought had not occurred to anyone else.

"Nope, too dangerous," D'Argo dismissed.

"For you, maybe, but what about the rest of us?"

"In case you forgot, those guys came after _all_ of us, not just D," Relex pointed out.

"He's right, Goll. Besides, home is the first place they would be expecting us to go. They would grab us before we even got close to Molina," Lind added, backing D'Argo.

"Fine," Goll sullenly conceded.

"Hey, D, don't you have an aunt or something on Hyneria? Why don't we go there?" Relex said in his most innocent tone. Ever since Aunt Chiana had visited a half-cycle ago, Relex had dreamed about little else.

"C'mon, Relex, just for once, think with your head and not your mivonks," Lind chastised.

"Hey, if it wasn't for my mivonks, I wouldn't need my head," Relex laughed at himself.

D'Argo considered the possibility. It was well within his 'uncle' Rygel's sphere of influence to protect them and hide their identity long enough to guard them from whatever force was trying to capture them. One main obstacle stood in their way; the distance to Hyneria was massive. It was close to the other side of civilized space from their current position. At this ship's maximum hetch drive, it would take almost an entire cycle to reach. Goll had picked up on this point as well.

"…farhbot. Not to mention the fact that the second we land on any Commerce Planet for supplies, we will get scanned."

"That's not true, we just stayed on that rec planet for six days and didn't get scanned." Everyone gave Relex an incredulous look. "Well, we obviously got scanned at _some_ point, but it's not like we were getting scanned walking through every door."

"No, Goll is right," D'Argo's tone instantly adding credibility to Goll's claim and quieting Relex. "We would have to make multiple supply stops before we reached Hyneria and it would only take one bio-scan to nail us."

"As long as we are us, it's just a matter of time before we are discovered," Goll commented dejectedly.

They sat in silence at the conundrum before them.

"Hey," Relex said, quietly and thoughtfully. "Set a heading for home…"

"We have been over this..." D'Argo said, irritated, hoping he wasn't going to have to fight this battle on two fronts.

"I know, I know, but I got an idea. I overheard my Dad one night giving one of his clients the name and location of a Genetic Modifier. Seems this client was on a murder rap, but Dad got him off. But the case had become so well-known that he couldn't go anywhere without people bringing it up. So Dad hooked him up with Gen Mod'er and boom, whole new identity."

"I don't know if I like the sound of someone modifying my genetic code," Goll said despairingly.

"Relax, it's not like you grow an extra arm or anything. It only allows you to change your DNA enough so you can pass through bio-scanners and the like under your new identity."

"Sounds illegal," Lind commented dryly.

"Sounds expensive," D'Argo added.

"I'm pretty sure it is both. If we can get within broadcast distance of Molina then I can access my Dad's files and get the location of the planet it's on."

"You mean it's not on our homeworld?"

"Frell, no, your daddy would have that place burned down in a second if it was."

"How close do we need to be?"

"About 3,000 motras."

"That's pretty close. If someone is waiting for us in orbit, then they'll probably scan us coming in."

"Not necessarily…" Goll said, his fingers dancing across his console.

"Go on," D'Argo nudged, encouraged that Goll was coming around.

"If we approach with this vector, it will put us directly behind Fokoiv. I think the broadcast antenna is strong enough on this thing that we can stay on the dark side of the moon and still access the data network."

"Sounds like a plan to me," D'Argo said, entering the course that Goll had plotted into the navigation computer. "We got 17 arns. I'm gonna go check out the rest of this ship. Lind?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm gonna stay up here and tinker with these consoles for awhile; see what this thing has to offer."

Scorpius held her very life is his hands. He could feel her throat begin to spasm as it tried desperately to gather precious oxygen but was unable to. Reflexive tears ran from her eyes as her face became flushed.

"You need me alive..." she managed to gasp out through her closing windpipe.

Scorpius released her from his grip with a dismissive shove. She landed hard on the ceramic floor, coughing from the incident.

"You are correct; I do need you alive. But there are many forms of living, some more comfortable than others."

"It's impossible, four children could never have outwitted my personal guard."

"And yet it appears they have. Not only have they escaped in one of our own intel vessels, but they managed to disable the transponder before leaving. So now they are wise to our pursuit and we have no way of tracking them!" The menace of his voice crackled with fury as the Scarran part of him came surging to the surface.

Moments before, Felina's honor guard captain had appeared, nose broken. He informed her of the failed attempt at capture.

"We were restrained to a beam of the boardwalk; a local police officer appeared and freed us. We maintained cover as tourists and told them we had gotten jumped by some kids. We led them to our ship but we were unable to secure it before they took off. Since the transponder had been removed, our back-up ship in orbit never saw them coming."

She had hoped to keep this information from Scorpius long enough to develop a plan, but he entered as soon as the Captain had departed.

"Now, Felina, we will precede under my authority. Anymore improvisation will result in you losing some of that grace that you use so skillfully," his calm yet intimidating drawl returning.

"Commandant Braca."

"Yes, Chancellor?" he said, entering Felina's quarters.

"Place a bounty on the children's heads. Make sure it is put in anonymously, but should someone dig hard enough, make sure they are directed to whoever owns the hotel they were staying at. Should John Crichton show up, take him into custody."

"But what of the treaty, sir? It is a criminal act to detain him against his will." 

"Very well," Scorpius said, annoyed.

While everyone aboard Moya was granted amnesty by both the Peacekeeper and Scarran delegations for their prior transgressions, it was only John that had special protection under the new treaty. Explicit directives were placed outlawing the research and development of wormhole weapons and technology. This armistice was also rooted in the fact that John Crichton, the leading purveyor of such knowledge, could never be held against his will.

While Rygel had lobbied hard, due to Aeryn and John being otherwise distracted during the proceedings, to provide amnesty for all of them, he was unsuccessful. Yet even in the midst of paranoia and seeming disregard for the treaty over the last few cycles, John's safety had never been compromised. Not even the indomitable Scorpius dared violate the treaty in such a brash fashion, at least not yet.

"Take Aeryn Sun into custody and merely suggest to him that if he wishes for her to remain unharmed, that he come along peacefully." 

"Yes, sir."

"Also, dispatch surveillance vessels to Molina, Hyneria and any other place to which these children may run. I want them found quickly and quietly."

"C'mon now, Goll, again," D'Argo spoke sternly. They had been at this for two arns and he still had not gotten it right. He was quickly discovering that while he had his father's sense of humor, his mother's lack of patience also made the genetic journey.

Goll had a tired and ragged look on his face, but he squared his shoulders once more and brought his hands up defensively. D'Argo matched the gesture. The only place on the cramped ship with enough room for what they required was the bunk area. Not exactly an optimal training ground, but it was all they had.

"Remember, the strength of the blow doesn't come from your forearm. It comes from moving your shoulders and pivoting your hips at the same time." D'Argo demonstrated.

Goll shifted his weight then struck. The blow was glancing and easily blocked.

"Damn it, Goll. You're thinking too much. You can't look at this as a series of movements. It's got to be fluid, smooth."

"Hey, D'Argo!" Relex's voice came vibrating through the bunks from the galley behind it. D'Argo turned to look in his direction just as Goll threw his punch. He never even saw it coming.

He awoke several arns later, groggy and sore.

"What the frell happened?" he huffed, mouth tasting coppery from dried blood.

"I think you know," Lind said, failing to hide her impish smile.

"Goll…," D'Argo said in realization. "That little weasel, I'm gonna..." he started to rise from the bed.

"Not do anything," she said firmly, placing her hand on his chest. "He feels bad enough. Just take comfort in the fact that you taught him well," Lind said in that even yet graceful tone she used whenever she was trying to calm him down.

D'Argo merely rested his head back on the pillow and pulled her closer to him. Her presence was warm and reassuring, making him forget the close call on the recreation planet. Her shoulders were tight and she looked tired.

"We should be in position in under a quarter-arn." She moaned into his chest as he massaged the knot between her shoulders with gentle fingers.

"Have any luck with the consoles?"

"D'Argo, this thing has the most sophisticated sensor suite I have ever seen!"

Lind sat up, her face beaming with excitement. In an instant he knew why she looked so tired. She had been probably been messing with those consoles for the entire trip.

"It can monitor multiple bandwidths and frequencies while filtering out whatever data you specify. This is not a run-of-the-mill transport. This has got to be a very expensive Intelligence vessel."

"Then it was Peacekeepers down there." D'Argo found no comfort in the confirmation.

"Seems that way, I cracked their internal data log…" she continued.

"Wait, you cracked their data logs?" D'Argo asked leaning up, instantly regretting the surprised look on his face.

"Yes, I did." She said smugly, pushing him back on the bed. "Between hacking into my father's personal files to see when he was going to be out of town and slicing the security devices in my home to sneak out and meet you, I got a lot of practice. Besides, most of my father's encryptions were Peacekeeper-derived, so I didn't have to change my usual ciphers that much."

"Well, Queen of my heart, learn anything useful?"

"Not really," she frowned. "The data stores appear to be routinely wiped and I haven't cracked the tougher files yet. I did, however, notice something odd."

"Oh?"

"This ship has no Peacekeeper ident nor does it contain anything else alluding to High Command. No orders or radio signals. If not for the upgraded equipment and the fact we saw them with our own eyes, this vessel could easily belong to any Intel agency with the credits to spare. Relex went through all their bags, no uniforms or exclusive Peacekeeper tech."

"This must not have been an officially-sanctioned mission."

"Either that or a rogue element."

"Hey, is D awake yet?" Relex said over the ship's comms.

"Yes, Relex, and he is very pleased with Goll's newly-acquired pantak jab."

"Yeah, I'm sure he's thrilled. Does that mean I can tell Goll he can come out of hiding?"

"No, let him stew a little while longer," D'Argo said through a grin.

"You two better get up here, I think we are… 200 microts from being in position. Or we are 200 motras out of position, I'm not really sure. All these readings look the same," Rexel complained, obviously out of his element.

"Come on, let's get up there before he starts pushing buttons and we're all ejected into space."

"Incoming transmission," one of the Prefect's guards reported over the comms. Aeryn and John sat alone in the cockpit of the large fighter transport. It was a heavily-armed and formidable craft, yet they both longed for the security of Moya. Her presence seemed to affirm their judgment and they could use all the luck they could get right now.

"Put it through," Aeryn ordered.

An image of Staaf and Weleth covered the viewport. Staaf looked prim and proper but his eyes gave clues to his inner turmoil. On the other hand, Weleth made no attempt to hide the fact that he was frazzled and worried about his son. It appeared as if he was wearing the same clothing he'd been wearing at the dinner.

"Mr. Wethern, what you got?" John asked.

"I was able to intercept a burst transmission before it was erased on the recreation planet. A police judicial report was filed against our children citing assault and unlawful restraint of four tourists. They escaped custody and shot their way off the planet. What's odd is that just after the report was filed; it was erased from all the databanks. For all intents and purposes, the incident never occurred."

"Interesting. Staaf, you find out who placed the bounty?"

"Using some of my less-reputable clients, I was able to locate the originator of the bounty. I've sent his coordinates to your ship. It seems he owns the hotel the children were staying at and consequently trashed, so he wants a little payback."

"Thank ya, boys, we'll be in touch," John said, closing the link before they could interject.

"This smells wishy," Aeryn said when the images dissipated, she was fleunt in english by now but that didn't stop her from poking at John evey now and again. "What are we gonna do?"

"Number 1, it's fishy. This smells fishy," John corrected, enunciating the 'f'. "Numero dos, we are gonna have a chat with this guy and get him to call off the bounty, and then figure out why the incident was covered up and by who."

"By 'whom'," she corrected haughtily.

He cut her a smile from the side of his lips, which she returned. The moment passed quickly as the cabin was silent while the two parents contemplated the situation in which their first-born son had found himself.

"Don't worry about him," Aeryn said, sensing the tension in her husband.

"Trust me, two arns of training every day after school? It's not him I'm worried about."

"Then what?"

"We spent his entire life keeping him safe, secluded. Making sacrifices that no parent has the right to make on behalf of their child, the secrets we kept from him. But at the end of the day, we justified it because it was keeping him safe. And now, the thought of him being hunted…" He broke off.

Aeryn swiveled her chair to face his and turned him as well. Cupping his face with soft hands, she brought their foreheads together.

"I fear we did not do enough to protect him," John uttered despairingly.

"Maybe we didn't," Aeryn acknowledged, knowing that empty platitudes and reassurances was not what he needed to hear right now. "But it no longer matters. All that matters is getting our son back and Cholak help anything that comes between us and him."

At that same moment, on the dark side of the moon…

"There! Got it, plugging the coordinates into the ship's navigation," Relex said triumphantly.

"Something the matter?" D'Argo asked, seeing a scowl cross Lind's face.

"A Macula-class fighter just left orbit."

"Macula, isn't that one of your Dad's private stock?"

"Yes, he must have figured out that we went to the rec planet and sent a party after me."

"How do you think your parents are handling this?" she asked, turning to D'Argo.

"Knowing them? I'm sure my mother didn't do anything brash and my father didn't make any snide comments."

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah…"

Felina stared at the database in front of her. It contained every step of D'Argo's existence and she had studied it constantly since the day Scorpius came into her life. She almost replayed the data vid he had given her on that fateful day when her innocence was ripped from her. She stopped herself, now was not that time to remind herself of why she felt such hate, but to concentrate and locate the boy.

"Where are you going?" she asked her half-brother. "You know you can't go home, Hyneria isn't safe, either. So where will you go? More importantly, how will you hide once you get there?" Then a thought struck her.

"Lieutenant?" she said tapping the comm on her desk.

"Yes, Ma'am?" he responded immediately.

"Patch me into the surveillance ship's network over Molina."

"Yes, Ma'am, making the connection now."

She studied the information, and then got to the database she was looking for.

** One external entry in the last 12 arns **

** Location: Unknown **

** Files Viewed: **

A smile crept across her lips as she scanned the data, "Lieutenant, prepare my personal vessel. Quietly."

On the command deck a different conversation was taking place.

"If we cannot locate them, will you activate the contingency?"

"No, it will be at least another two cycles before his brain has matured. We will hold the contingency in reserve until then. D'Argo is half-human, Commandant, and therefore predictable."

Scorpius could see the doubt form on Braca's brow. It was obvious what he was thinking, _When it came to Crichton, he was anything but predictable._

"In the end, Commandant, D'Argo will behave precisely like his father. Merely place something he loves in mortal danger. At first he will fight, then bargain and ultimately succumb. It's quite pathetic, really. Yes, he will be ours long before his twentieth birthday." A confident sneer formed across Scorpius' lips.

Whenever his parents told him stories about commerce planets, it was always the same. A dark and treacherous place where thieves and bandits mingled with crooked vendors on dirty streets. That was in the Uncharted Territories; they now lived in the heart of 'Civilized Space'. Commerce planets here were bastions of consumption, a treat for the buyer and seller alike. Nevertheless, even the nicest cities had a bad part of town. It was that part of town that the four friends found themselves in now, having landed their ship in the ruins of a collapsed building. They had maybe an arn before it was discovered, so they moved quickly.

They approached a run-down clinic, its once-majestic windows shattered and walls covered with the kind of grime only cycles of neglect can produce. The heavy doors stood open, the interior lobby long ago gutted and looted. They entered the clinic full of suspicion and apprehension, each clutching their pistol with grim nervousness.

"Hey, you remember when we were watching one of your Dad's movies that he told us was so scary?" Relex asked, a false levity in his voice.

"Yeah," D'Argo responded, his eyes never stopped scanning as they entered deeper into the lobby.

"But instead of being scared, we just laughed at how dumb the humans were for walking into the big empty house and then the nerve they had to be surprised when it all went wrong."

"Yes, Relex, the irony is palpable," Lind said, holding her weapon with more familiarity than any one of them could have imagined.

"Palpable," Relex repeated. "That's a good word."

"For the record, I think this is bad idea," Goll said, trying desperately to stop the blaster from trembling in his hand

"Yeah, maybe so."

"How can I help you?" A new voice echoed in the empty hall.

They all spun around with a start. The man before them appeared to be, by Sebacean standards, entering old age. Loose tangles of dirty white hair clung to the sides of his otherwise bald head, while day-old stubble dotted his face in patches. He was between them and the door, but appeared to be unarmed.

"Well, that's the scariest-looking guy _I've_ ever seen," Goll eked out quietly.

D'Argo stepped forward to address him, but was stopped by Relex. He had a "let me handle this" look on his face.

"We're looking for Doctor Agelus. We heard he makes really drad cocktails."

"And who might you be?"

"Well, that's why we are here, my man, we want to change who we might be."

"You look familiar. Perhaps I should check the bounty listing to see if that's perhaps the place I recognize you from."

"That's not a good idea."

"Oh?"

"For one; four cocktails will pay you more than the bounty ever could."

"And two?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"If we don't return to our ship within the next arn, it's programmed to transmit your location as well as what you do here to every judicial force in the system," Relex said, with a coy shrug of the shoulders.

"Very clever, your father would be proud."

"What?!"

"Come now, Biqur Staaf's referrals make up 13 of my business. And I make it a point to know everything I can about my enemies, and even more about my allies."

"Then you know that I have more than enough information to sink you and your venture."

"Indeed, your threat is taken and heeded. I assume that your anonymity is also encompassed in the threat as well."

"Implicitly," D'Argo added. He used his free hand to slowly lower Goll's weapon. Goll looked genuinely grateful, as if he could not do it on his own."Very well, this way. The doctor is in," the old man said with a smile.

They followed the good doctor through a maze of bare-walled corridors until they reached a dead end. Manipulating an unseen device in the stone wall, it slid away slowly to the side. A white light flowed out of the cracks until the scene before them was in full view. A small sitting area was directly in front of them and to its side sat a series of consoles and terminals. Behind it was a single medical stretcher near a vast cabinet full of various liquids and materials, each labeled and arranged with anal-retentive spacing.

"You run this by yourself?" Lind asked.

"I did have an aide, but she had to be let go," the doctor responded, a strange tone to his voice.

"Not performing?"

"On the contrary, performing too often." A hint of lover's scorn was now evident.

"We need to be able to fool bio-scanners, DNA checks, the whole deal."

"Ah, a full treatment. I see, and then you were right. This will indeed be a quite a payday. Of course, you realize that any change will be superficial and only affect the most basic of scanners. Should anyone do an in-depth scan, your true identity will be impossible to mask," the doctor pointed out.

"How much of a payday we looking at?" Relex asked, appearing to not even hear the doctor's warning.

"100,000," he responded, with a firm tone suggesting the price was non-negotiable.

"Whoa, give us a moment," D'Argo said, ushering the group out of earshot.

"100,000 Peacekeeper credits? That's about 98,000 more then we have at the moment. Relex, anything you can do?"

"I'm sure Dad's got the money stashed somewhere, but there would be no way to get it out with alerting him or anyone else. It's simply too much."D'Argo thought for a moment, then turned to address the doctor, "How about an undercover Peacekeeper surveillance ship, sensors fully intact and data-hacked instead?"

He heard his friends gasp at the thought of selling their only transportation.

"What?! Are you fahrbot?!"

"You can't sell the ship!"

"We got no choice, guys. First rule of running form the bad guys; ditch the getaway car. Besides, what do you think Uncle Rygel is gonna do when an unmarked Peacekeeper Intelligence vessel enters his space uninvited? We'd be scuttled before we could make our first transmission."

"Deal, but you're still 10,000 short." The doctor said, bringing the group back to the negotiation at hand

10,000 might as well have been 10 million, it was more than they had. Something caught Lind's eye and she wandered over to the consoles and the code streaming across the screen.

"You're trying to crack a PK 256 encryption?"

"Yes," the doctor raised his eyebrow at the demure brown-haired girl. "A former client was captured by a bounty hunter and I'm trying to remove any trace of our transaction from his bank's records, but my computer cannot break through the coded wall."

"That's because you're using an outdated program on sub-par equipment," she said, pulling out the chair and sitting in it.

"Ah, is that the problem? And I'm sure you can crack that code for me?"

"With a little time, yes, I can. Of course, such services come at a price."

"Let me guess, 10,000 credits."

"Very perceptive."

"I'll pay you 5,000," the doctor offered.

Lind merely pushed herself away from the console.

"But, you can work off the rest."

"You offering me a job?"

"Tentatively, yes. I assume you're on the run. So if you plan on selling me your ship, you'll need someone on this planet with connections."

"Why should we trust you?"

"No real reason, I guess. But just because I'm a criminal, doesn't mean I am a bad person."

After an arn of arguing, yelling and Goll trying to use his newly acquired pantak jab on Relex, they decided to trust the doctor and spend some time on the commerce planet until they could arrange safe transport to Hyneria.

"Alright, before I start the procedure, I'll need to issue you all new ident chips. So I need names," he said, preparing to transcribe them.

They all stood in silence. They had assumed something like this would come up but everyone seemed at a sudden loss.

The doctor merely gave them an exasperated sigh.

"Let's see…uh…" D'Argo faltered.

A bright light seemed to strike Relex's face and he stepped forward.

"My name in Han Solo, that's Luke and Leia. And this guy is C-3..."

"Fett," Goll blurted, stepping in front of Relex. "Boba Fett."

"What? There is no way you're Boba Fett. You are totally C-3PO."

"No, I'm not! And the last time I checked, Han Solo shot at the bad guys, not harmless boulders."

"Enough!" the doctor bellowed. "Boba, is it?"

"Yes," Goll said, a confident grin on his face.

"You're first." The grin was gone immediately. "Luke, go get my new ship. There's a clearing southeast of the clinic, when you approach I'll open the hangar."

"Wait a minute, weren't Luke and Leia related?" D'Argo asked Relex before exiting the room.

"Ah, you worry too much about the semantics," Relex responded with a dismissive wave.

"Right," D'Argo said, treading back down the hallway.

"Hey, Luke!" Relex yelled after him.

"Don't you say it!" Immediately knowing where his long-time comrade was going.

"May the Force be with you!"


	4. Interesting Places and Interesting Faces

**Chapter 4: Interesting Places and Interesting Faces**

In their travels, they encountered few cultures that celebrated the anniversary of one's birth. Molina seemed unique in that regard. On the eve of his twentieth birthday, D'Argo wondered absently if that was one of the reasons why his parents had decided to settle there.

Relex watched as his friend twirled his pistol in his fingers. There was no longer a cocky assurance in his posture. Relex had never known D'Argo to doubt himself or his abilities, but his friend had changed over the last few cycles since they left Molina. A child forced to mature and adapt; it took its considerable toll. His shoulders sagged and his head hung limply from his neck. The weight of the universe rested hard on his shoulders, a weight no one could bear for him. Lind's sleeping body rested solidly behind him. Ever since D'Argo had stopped taking the drug, she had not allowed herself to sleep soundly; constantly worried about her future husband.

"Do you think my parents knew this would happen?" D'Argo asked quietly, not lifting his head.

Relex was startled by his awareness. His first impulse was to offer his friend the affirmation he so desperately sought. Assurance that his belief in his parents' infallibility was grounded in fact, but the journey they had made together required the truth. D'Argo would not have asked, otherwise.

"I don't know, brother," Relex admitted slowly. He had been wondering the same thing since the reason behind the tremors was revealed, but was waiting for D'Argo to bring it up himself.

D'Argo merely nodded his head slightly, his memory bringing him back to their first visit to the doctor and the events that were put into motion then that brought them to this juncture.

D'Argo exited the hangar and entered the doctor's office through a concealed door behind the medical stretcher. Relex was laid out on it as the doctor was waving a bio-scan wand over him. The doctor's eyes were firmly set on the various readings projected on a screen above Relex's head.

D'Argo noticed that Goll and Lind were huddled close together in the seating area, draped under thick blankets.

"You guys ok?" D'Argo asked, eyebrow piqued in concern.

"Yee.aa.aa," they sputtered through chattering teeth.

"A mild side-effect of the procedure. The body becomes cold due to the change in the blood. It will pass before the end of the arn. And you're done," The doc said to Relex, satisfied with the readings on the screen. Relex exited the stretcher with distaste and grabbed a heavy blanket hung over a chair. He wrapped himself in it, grabbed the chair and dragged it next to the stretcher, intending to stand watch over D'Argo's procedure.

"Your turn," The doc said, motioning to the stretcher.

D'Argo lay down. After the doc waved the wand over him a few times and was satisfied with what he saw, he rolled up D'Argo's sleeve. D'Argo reflexively withdrew, but was calmed by Lind's voice as she moved over to the table.

"Relax, he is just going to tag you," Lind said soothingly, walking over to him.

"And don't worry, there is nothing sexual about it. I made sure," Goll added sardonically.

"The injection merely enters your bloodstream and makes it easier to analyze your body." the doc explained, attempting reassurance.

D'Argo reluctantly nodded, allowing the doc to inject him. After a moment the sides of the stretcher produced a canopy that enveloped his mid-section.

"This is a sonic re-aligner. It produces a vibration that momentarily forces the cells to…"

"I heard the explanation already; you're better off not knowing what he is doing," Relex interrupted.

"My, my. Not all is at it appears to be," the doc commented. The biological scan before him was obviously not Sebacean.

"That's not gonna be a problem, is it?" D'Argo asked, feeling exposed.

"No, I'll merely need to adjust the procedure. Fascinating, I have never seen a structure like this before. Tell me, what species are your parents?" the doc asked, curious.

"What, are you writing a book? Get back to work," Relex jumped in defensively.

"Very well."

The doc began the process by manipulating some controls on the canopy. D'Argo felt his mind begin to hum.

"Doc, I got a funny feeling. Is this supposed to be happening?"

"Your scans are within the accepted parameters. Try and relax."

The doc activated the canopy, immediately causing D'Argo to spasm out of control. His body jerked wildly, his hands clanging hard against the canopy as his primal instinct told him to flee.

"What's happening?!" Lind shrieked.

"Hold him down!" the doc ordered.

Relex and Goll tried to restrain him, but he was too strong. His thrashing became more erratic and Lind froze as she noticed the blood beginning to seep from his eyes and nose.

"What the frell are you doing?!" Relex demanded as the doctor feverishly worked on something on the table behind the stretcher. The clank of bottles and mixtures was lost in the convulsions coursing through their friend. D'Argo's elbow flew widely, striking Lind sharply across the face. Her body crumpled to the floor as if shot.

"We can't hold him much longer," Goll said, the fear in his voice rising.

The doc moved fluidly, striking D'Argo cleanly in the neck with a syringe. Slowly at first, the contractions began to weaken and eventually, all motion stopped. The men stood panting in shock and horror. With a snap, Relex drew his pistol and brought the butt of it across the doc's face, sending him crashing to the ground.

Goll was still in shock and unable to react.

"Goll, check on Lind," Relex ordered quietly, his weapon leveled at the doctor.

"Relex, I…"

"Just do it!" His eyes never leaving the doc, full of anger and betrayal. "What did you do to him?" Relex demanded.

"I don't know why he had the…" the doc's confusion cut short as a pulse blast ripped through his calf.

"Not. Good. Enough. The next one in going to be in your skull," was the grim threat he gave the doctor in response to his cries of pain.

The doctor fumbled with a syringe near his feet and injected himself.

"What was that?" Relex demanded.

"Pain suppressor. It is going to be hard to tell you what's happening to your friend if I'm screaming in agony," the doc said, using the shelf as leverage to stand up.

Relex's aim never wavered. "You don't go near him."

"Relex, stop!" Lind said angrily, rising to her feet with Goll's assistance.

"What? You saw what he did…"

"I saw the exact same thing you did, Relex, and the only person who has chance of figuring out what happened now has a pulse wound," Lind scolded.

"But…"

"Lower the weapon, Relex. If he wanted to harm us, he would have not have started with his last patient." Her eyes shifting to the doctor, Lind inquired sternly, "What the frell happened to him?"

"I don't know, it will take some time analyze the readings. And I need to treat my wound."

"No, him first. Otherwise your wounds are going to multiply," Relex waved his pistol warningly. He didn't give a damn _what_ Lind thought about it.

-

Meanwhile back on the Recreation Planet…

John and Aeryn exited the ship onto to the soft sand of the beach, eyes scanning the cove walls. They were covered with pulse blast burns. Apparently, they were not the first to use this secluded cove as a landing site. The clanging sound of the Prefect's guards coming down the stairs ended their speculation.

"You three are staying here," Aeryn said firmly, checking the cartridge of her Mark IV pulse pistol.

"We are under orders…" one of the guards started.

"We know, we know…" John rolled his fingers in frustration. Even though she had gone through some slight upgrades, Winona was still horribly out-of-date, but that was not even remotely enough of a reason for John to change pistols.

"I have had enough of this!" the oldest of the three guards said, approaching Aeryn to square off. He had worn, leathery skin that suggested he had been around the block, perhaps while the block itself was on fire. His eyes were crisp and green, like a hawk's. A mean hawk.

"I have been guarding Lind since she was born and love her like my own blood. I understand you are worried about your son, but he is not the only one missing. Nothing," he said, leaning in closer, voice dropping menacingly. "And I mean _nothing_ is going to get in my way of returning her to safety."

Aeryn held his gaze for a moment, and then tilted her head to address the two guards behind him.

"Commander Chaz'ri," Aeryn said reading the name of his badge. "Is coming with us, you two guard the ship," she said with a slight nod to the older man before turning to walk down the beach.

The other guards' protests were silenced by the older man's raised hand, signaling them to shut up and guard the ship as ordered. John merely sighed and fell into line behind the two. _Great just what I need, someone for Aeryn to measure penises with._

-

It started with cold. That's all any of his senses would register. Moments before he was laying on the medical stretcher and now complete, suffocating blackness surrounded him. A rippling blue wave shimmered in the distance. As it drew closer, he reached out to touch it, but it withdrew from his fingers. Constantly out of reach. He tried to focus on the shimmering, shifting form, hoping to better understand it. But the harder he tried, the blurrier it got. It was taunting him, and then it merely faded away. He felt alone it the endless, frigid darkness, unable to scream for help.

-

John was upset. Not because the microt they walked through the hotel lobby door a platoon of Peacekeeper commandos swarmed them. Not because he had sworn to Aeryn when they settled on Molina that he would never allow them to be captured again. Not because everything always seemed to go terribly wrong whenever they found themselves in situations like this. No, John was upset because he had spent the entire walk over here coming up with cool names for all of them and now he wouldn't get to frelling _use_ them.

"John Crichton, Aeryn Sun. Under order of the High Command, you are to be escorted for a meeting with the Chancellor. Come peacefully and you will not be harmed," a smarmy Lieutenant ordered.

They didn't have much of a choice. There were at least twenty fully-armored Peacekeeper commandos, new and improved pulse rifles in hand, in the lobby.

"If you know who we are then you know you cannot harm us," Crichton responded, causally lowering his pistol as if not intimidated.

"Correction, I cannot harm _you_. Aeryn Sun's life is not protected and her keeping it depends greatly on you cooperating. The Chancellor is extending every courtesy to you and wishes for you to come along peacefully as his guests, not prisoners. As such, if you agree to come quietly, you will be allowed to retain your weaponry."

The disgust in the Lieutenant's voice lent credibility to his offer. This guy was itching to give his men the order to open fire, but didn't.

"John?" Aeryn asked quietly, her weapons pointed at the Lieutenant's head. Ensuring that if this went south, he would be the first to die.

"Well, we came here to figure out who tried to grab D'Argo and why. We have the who, let's find out the why."

-

It was cold and bright. That's all his mind could process as he regained consciousness. He felt vulnerable and awkward on the table, opening his eyes slowly to adjust to the brilliant medical lamp shining upon him. His vision cleared, and he took in his surroundings. Lind slept fitfully next to him on the stretcher, Goll rested in the chair to his right and the Doc and Relex were seated in the waiting area passing a bottle between them.

_How long have I been out?_

The clearest indications to the length of his departure were that none of them were wearing the pastel colors of the recreation planet they had visited. The others all now wore the dark leather pants and brown tunics of the locals they had seen on their way to the clinic. Bringing his hand to his face, he found not stubble, but the beginning of a beard had formed.

_Frell…_

-

When they had left the planet, leaving the Prefect's guards behind, John and Aeryn had expected to be taken to a command carrier or a prison ship. The surprise they got when leaving orbit was a strong one. An opulent Peacekeeper command yacht was their destination. Aeryn had explained that only the most exalted dignitaries and members of High Command itself were allowed to use such vessels. The awe in her voice made John uneasy. No one ever treated them good, ever. Just didn't happen. _Ever._

After six solar days aboard the ship, the novelty of the luxurious liner began to wear thin. Their attempts to find out where they were going went unheeded by their personal servants. While they were not officially 'prisoners', they were not allowed full reign of the ship. All panels and terminals were guarded by armed sentries around the clock and any attempt at subversion was instantly discovered.

"You see that?" John said, pointing to a distinctively bright star through the viewport on the lavish observation terrace.

"Yes," Aeryn responded.

"That's the third time we've passed it at this vector. We're flying in circles."

"Actually, figure eights." Aeryn corrected.

Apparently, John would have to work harder than that to surprise his pilot wife and lover. "Right, so the real question is, why are they stalling?"

-"Anybody catch the license plate of that bus?" D'Argo asked wearily.

Lind and Goll awoke as Relex and the doc rushed to him.

"Give him air, he is speaking gibberish and could have sustained brain damage," the doctor warned.

"Nah, the only part of his brain that's damaged is the part that watches his dad's movies too much. How you feeling, brother?" Relex asked, a sparkle in his eye showing the great relief he felt.

"Like the time I was sparring with my mother and accidentally called her a tralk. What the frell happened?"

"Well, it's kind of complicated…" the doc faltered.

"Spit it out, doc."

"Well, this is your brain before the treatment." An image of a normal-sized brain appeared on the viewer behind him. "And this is what happened during the treatment." The image of the normal brain was overlaid by an image with a large red and orange circle near the center. Like a hurricane on a weather forecast.

"It is centered around this part of the brain." A third image appeared, this one a magnified section of tissue.

"What the frell is that?"

"In most Sebaceans? A cluster of neurons that aids in memory retention. In you? I have no idea. The microt the base of your DNA was changed, this gland began to hemorrhage. Similar to what we see when a repressed memory has surfaced. However, in your case, multiply that by a thousand. The shock was so strong it was overwhelming the brain completely. Had I not sedated you and reduced your brain wave patterns, you would be dead."

"And now?"

"I have been able to fabricate a solvent that is absorbed by your body and effectively neutralizes the chemical your brain is producing."

"So I'm cured?"

"More like treated. You must take the serum every day or your brain will be overloaded again."

"Every _day_? For the rest of my _life_?"

"Not necessarily. Your brain may develop its own measures to cope with this gland."

D'Argo's thoughts immediately went to the problems his father had had with Scorpius and the neural chip.

"Other than the obvious, is there anything suspicious about this gland?"

"Make no mistake, your brain is totally natural. I have detected no tampering at all; therefore it's possible it may work itself out. But it could take cycles."

"Cycles…" D'Argo let the word hang, weighing its significance.

"There's more…" Lind said with a sigh.

"More?!"

"Take a look at this," the doc said, ignoring the outrage. The screen was replaced by a split screen of two more brain images.

"Thanks to her, we were able to get a scan of your brain from your last medical examination. Approximately 45 solar days ago."

D'Argo looked at her smug face with a raised eyebrow.

"It was really quite simple, I was able to slice into a shipping relay circuit and reroute…"

"Anyway," the doctor interrupted, apparently having heard the explanation before. "Now compare that scan to the one I took of your brain _before_ the procedure. See any discrepancy?"

D'Argo scanned the image closely, at first noticing no difference, then his eyes settled on a slight discoloration near where the red haze was on the previous scan.

"Yeah." He traced a small circle in the air near the image.

"Something in your brain chemistry had changed in those solar days. Anything come to mind? Anything unusual that could have caused this abnormality?"

"No, not really. Except when we first left the atmosphere of Molina I had a strange feeling. Since it was my first time entering space I attributed it to nervous jitters, but…"

"Interesting," the doc said thoughtfully. "That may be our catalyst. I must insist that you not leave the planet until we figure out what the cause is."

"What? Have you forgotten the whole reason why we came here? We have a bounty on our heads."

"Listen, my serum is barely keeping the gland functional as it is. Any increase in the gland's activity and it could cause your friend to have a lethal aneurysm. And since the only evidence we have is that space travel was the initial instigator, he could die the microt he left atmosphere."

"How could leaving the atmosphere make that much of a difference on his brain?" Goll asked.

"You can't feel the wind of a hurricane if you're at the bottom of the ocean," D'Argo commented slowly. The gravity of the situation was crushing. "Hey, doc?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you limping?"

-

The doors slid mechanically open with a hiss. The room he entered was dark and vast. The contour of a desk with multiple terminals on it was outlined by the only source of light within the room. The entire back wall was a massive window, separated into three sections by elaborate columns. They gave a perfect view of the turquoise ocean and white clouds of the planet this moon orbited.

Fourteen solar days since their departure from the recreation planet, they finally had reached their destination. As their ship descended to a barren and gray moon, John wondered what they were doing at what appeared to be a nondescript mining platform. Then he saw it through the eyes he had to use when he first entered the Uncharted Territories all those cycles ago. The eyes that witnessed firsthand the atrocities that still haunted him. With those eyes, he saw the structure for what it was, a Gammak Base, albeit a well-disguised one.

As soon as they had disembarked, John was separated from Aeryn and ushered to the Chancellor's quarters. He strolled inside with his thumbs hooked in his leathers.

"You know, Batman had a ton of arch-enemies," John started, making sure his voice was loud enough to carry to whatever corner he was hiding in. "The Joker, The Riddler, Danny Devito, the list goes on. Supes? He had Lex Luthor and… well, the rest of his villains were crap, so that's a bad example. But you see my point."

"No, John," Scorpius said, materializing from behind one of the pillars. The red dots on his cooling matrix gave off an eerie glow. "What is your point?"

"That just _once_ I would like it to be Michelle Pfeiffer in tight black leather with a whip to be the one to step out from behind the curtain, instead of you."

"Now is not the time to entertain your idle fantasies," Scorpius said with a dismissive wave.

"Trust me, when I'm having that particular fantasy, I'm anything but idle."

Scorpius approached the three windows and an image appeared on the center pane. A vast stellar map shone brightly, illuminating the room.

"Do you know what this is? This is the galaxy we created." Scorpius said, holding his hands up triumphantly.

John's eyes instinctively scanned for the places he knew. Hyneria, Molina, the Luxan homeworld, and he noticed many of the places he had traveled in the Uncharted Territories were no longer uncharted. They had been annexed into the new Peacekeeper/Scarran territorial map.

"Nice to see manifest destiny isn't just an Earth thing," John commented caustically.

"We are here," Scorpius said, a red dot appearing on the map. "Braewq, Commerce Planet, Class K7 is its designation."

"Near the food court?"

Scorpius ignored the comment as a red haze emerged to cover much of the map; it was darker in the more populated sectors and lighter in others. There were small pockets where it was untouched, but they were few.

"As Chancellor, I no longer am afforded the luxury of my hate for Scarrans, nor may I pursue my own interests in the fields of science," Scorpius declared, ignoring the red haze. The usual egotism in his voice was replaced by a weight that seemed to hang on his words. "It is my duty to not only enforce the treaty we signed with the Scarrans, but also protect the Peacekeeper Empire and insure their well-being."

"Forgive the cynicism, Scorpy, but I find it hard to believe that High Command would elect a half-Scarran as Grand Poo-Bah," John said, a little unsettled about the direction this conversation was taking.

"It is true that there are a few fully-Sebacean leaders that are presented for the public, but make no mistake, this is my empire." Scorpius again did not sound arrogant or egotistical, which worried John.

"Whatever you say, Rasputin. You gonna tell me what the red stuff is?" John asked, drawing his finger across the window.

"That, John, is why you are here. That is why I am here. That is why I have built this base on a barren moon orbiting a mediocre Commerce planet. That, John, is the Nebari Contagion."

John felt the wind get knocked out of him. He had always figured that would come back around to bite him on the ass, he just didn't know when.

"The Nebari knew that the Scarrans and Peacekeepers would eventually go to war, so they waited. When that war was prematurely ended by the wormhole weapon, they had to revise their plan. They could no longer afford to only infect enough of the galaxy's mixed population to weaken us; they had to render us all mentally impotent. The disease itself lays dormant in the body until it is activated by a very distinct radioactive signal. A signal so minute, that it's impossible to block and can traverse vast amounts of space on transmission waves alone. In short, it is the perfect detonator." Scorpius sounded a little impressed, the image on the window changed again. This time, bright white specks popped up on various points of the map.

"These are transmission stations, situated throughout the galaxy so that the virus can be activated simultaneously. The only way to stop the contagion from being activated is by taking out the origin of the signal."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"The source transmitter itself is in a most the inaccessible place," Scorpius continued, ignoring John. "It resides in the center of the Nebari homeworld. Totally unreachable by air strike and any attempt to get inside the facility could reveal to the Nebari that we are aware of their plot and force them to release the contagion early. We also predict that we only know of about 34 percent of the signal stations, so organizing a joint strike on them would be pointless."

"Why are you telling me this?!"

"Because, we need your help, John."

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don't have the wormhole knowledge anymore," John said, finding the admission difficult. He had always bluffed that he still retained it in hopes it would force them to honor the treaty.

"I know you don't, that's not what we need your help with."

"Oh? What, do you want me to sell war bonds?" John's stomach did a back flip. Not just because Scorpius knew the truth, but that it changed the reason why John was summoned. If Scorpius wasn't after him, then why bring him here?

"We need your help with your son, D'Argo." As Scorpius said this, the windows began flashing continuous images of D'Argo, starting with shots of his youth. Playing ball with his father, going to school, shots of his friends Lind, Relex, Goll. Birthday parties, sport matches, and everything in between.

"As you can see, we have been studying him for some time. Let me tell you of an interesting gland in your son's brain."

-

D'Argo and Lind causally strolled down the busy street, the amber sun setting in the azure horizon. The anxiety and apprehension of their situation was momentarily lost in the effervescent pulse in the air. A cool breeze wafted the aroma of the various restaurants which lined the street and the cheerful chatter of the citizens meeting up at the close of a work day. This particular avenue was populated with open-air cafes and nightclubs, making it the center of the nightlife in the city.

The four friends were all homesick and unaccustomed to the freedom they had so brazenly sought. Since space travel was not an option, they decided to make do on this planet for the time being. Each of them adapted to their new situation by engrossing themselves in their new vocations. That doctor had gotten D'Argo a job at a local ship maintenance facility. Turning a wrench was neither glamorous nor highly paid, but it was low profile and he was more than competent. The irony of being in the same job he had fled Molina to escape was not lost on him.

Lind seemed to find her job as the doctor's slicer both invigorating and liberating. The daughter of a Justice Prefect working for a criminal may have been counter-intuitive, but she genuinely seemed to enjoy it. Relex was also using his native ability by working in the sales department of D'Argo's garage. He was attractive, eloquent and morally ambivalent. In other words: the perfect salesman.

Surprisingly, it was Goll who seemed to be adjusting the best. Seizing the opportunity to follow his own path, he took a menial job at a local nightclub serving drinks. He seemed to revel in the upbeat atmosphere and his self-confidence was blossoming. His nightly attempts to discover a pick-up line that actually worked on females seemed to be finally showing signs of progress. It was to that particular nightclub that Lind and D'Argo were headed.

-

"Bullshit. If D'Argo had this knowledge, you would have kidnapped him long ago."

"While the thought had crossed my mind, the unique nature of his gift demanded a different approach. When you acquired the knowledge from the Ancients, it was merely placed in your mind. Because you were not genetically predisposed to it, this meant it could be taken out just as easily. Of course, deciphering the information was a challenge." Scorpius paused as both men reflected on the four-year crusade across the Uncharted Territories.

"Nevertheless, D'Argo's understanding of wormholes is intrinsic. It has been a part of him since conception. Because of this, the knowledge cannot be taken from his mind, it must be freely given. Also, we noticed that the gland itself appears to function strangely under stress as a defense mechanism. Any attempts to extract the knowledge by force will lead to, _undesirable_ results."

"That's why you never nabbed him; he has to be willing to help you," John said convulsing with laughter.

"What is so funny, John?" Scorpius was obviously not as amused by the irony of the situation.

"What, has someone replaced your cooling rods with glow sticks? My son will never help you! We have been training him his whole life to evade you. You'll never find him."

"Oh, I beg to differ, John."

An image appeared of D'Argo and Lind walking down a busy commercial street, hand in hand.

"What you're looking at is a live video feed of the commerce planet directly in front of you. You are here to help your son learn to use his knowledge and help divert the oncoming catastrophe. One of our, _agents_, discovered him about ten solar days ago, which caused the delay of our meeting. I wanted to make sure my new base was fully operational. I also needed the time to invite another guest, one you may be more likely to trust. Commandant Braca?"

The doors slid open once more and Braca entered, a shorter man behind him. No, not a man. When John's eyes finally registered the person before him, he felt his heart run the emotional gamut.

"I believe you and General know each other?" Scorpius added snidely.

"Hello, Crichton."

"Hey, Jothee."

-

Upon entering the nightclub, they were met by the thumping house music and the fragrance of strong drinks and stronger hair scenting. After nodding at Goll, who was busy behind the bar, they located Relex sitting on a plush couch near the back. Weaving their way through the crowd, they noticed that he was not alone. The girl on his shoulder was incredibly striking; black hair clung sexily on her shoulders, her blues eyes catching the flashing dance lights like they shone only for her. Upon noticing them approaching, Relex jumped up to meet them.

"I hit the jackpot, brother." Relex's smile was wide and unsuppressed. His eyes had a gleam to them, but D'Argo didn't think the alcohol in the bottles on the table was the cause.

Ushering them over, the woman stood up. Her posture was elegant and graceful.

"D'Argo, Lind. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

"Pleasure, my name is Felina." He voice was syrupy and melodic; a coy grin crossed her lips.


	5. Furloughs and Doc Holidays

**Chapter Five: Furloughs and (Doc) Holidays**

The most logical thing for Relex to do would be apologize, buy them a round and walk away. Preferably avoiding eye-contact. However, when it came to Relex, logic, as well as common sense and tact, not only went out the window, it took the whole building with it.

Moments earlier Relex had gone to the bar to purchase another round of drinks, a harmless-enough act in most situations. However, after getting the drinks and turning to leave he accidentally spilled one on a Faecrian. _Uh-oh._ Faecrians looked vaguely Sebaceanoid; blocky, massive bodies with a pebbly crimson hide. Their most distinguishable and intimidating feature was a wicked pair of horns that grew out from their temples and curved around the top of the head.

At one time Faecrians were a race of subservient workers that labored on a particularly inhospitable industrialized mining planet. Due to their impenetrable outer skin, they were able to work in the dangerous mines and survive the seemingly perpetual cave-ins. Soon after the end of the Peacekeeper Wars, the workers organized and revolted against their masters. Both sides saw massive loss of life, but the Faecrians eventually overcame their feudal lords.

Most stayed on the planet, but a few went off-world to use their strength and natural rocky armor in the mercenary trade. They were hardly ever hired for two reasons; their unique skin texture set off scanners motras away and they were just as likely to kill their employers, as well as other non-Faecrians in their squad, as they were the target. Faecrians valued honor and loyalty above all else; including their own safety and monetary gain.

Three of these creatures were surrounding Relex, looking very angry. _Double uh-oh._

"Sorry about the mess," Relex said hoping the relaxed tone hid his inner fright.

"You have dishonored me!" the Faecrian boomed as blue liquid slowly dripped down his chiseled frame.

"How about this, you and your buddies walk away and I won't make you buy me another drink." Relex responded, foot firmly in mouth.

Across the room, Goll was at D'Argo's table and they exchanged concerned glances at the scene playing out in front of them. The crowd had wisely backed away from the disturbance and the music came to an abrupt stop. D'Argo was a little surprised that it actually happened that way outside of Earth movies. They would have to act quickly or they would be taking Relex home in a dust pan.

"Goll, grab me that pistol your boss has stashed behind the bar," D'Argo said, never taking his eyes off his besieged friend.

"D'Argo…" Lind's eyes probing.

He gave her that dren-eating grin his father had perfected and responded simply, "What would Daddy do?" and rose slowly from the seat.

"What's does that mean?" Felina asked, watching the two friends head toward the storm awaiting them.

"Means sit back and enjoy the show and get ready to take them all to the med facility," Lind replied dryly, rolling her eyes. She took a sip of her drink and sat back, tension riding in her shoulders, as she watched the drama unfold.

Glowering at the impetuous Halfling's back, Felina deliberately relaxed into her seat as well, considering her options. _If the idiot gets himself killed…_

In the night sky, the full moon shone brightly. On a seemingly-harmless mining platform, a different storm was brewing…

Crichton looked at his reflection in the viewport. For the first time, he noticed how much he'd aged in these past few weekens. Soft lines had formed underneath his eyes, small cracks were becoming more visible on his face, and pale gray hair was rapidly spreading over his ears.

Scorpius had left them alone for the moment at Braca's request. John wondered what could possibly be more important than watching Crichton's world falling apart. Jothee stood silently behind him, apparently waiting for Crichton to open up dialogue. John wanted to convey the betrayal he felt, but knew his own words would never be eloquent enough.

"Et tu, Jothee?" John said slowly, the best he could manage.

"Crichton, listen…"

"What are you doing here, Jothee?" he said, raising his hand to silence him.

"The Chancellor…"

"You do _not_ call him that," he spun angrily. "You call him Scorpius, the same guy that was willing to kill you in order to get worm tech."

"Crichton, when are you going to see that the universe is bigger than petty resentment?"

"That's rich, coming from _you_."

Ever since Jothee had learned the nature and reasons behind his father's demise, a subtle but drowning weight had formed between him and Crichton. The Luxan warrior in Jothee was pleased his father had found a proud and honorable death. However, the part of Jothee that was raised in slavery regarded it as foolish, and blamed Crichton for allowing him to perish that day. He resented Crichton for allowing his father to die protecting his surrogate family, instead of living to see his own.

John knew what any kid who took Psych 101 knew; Jothee blamed himself. For his own failures regarding his father and the time they'd lost.

"I am not here to argue with you, Crichton, I'm here to tell you that Scorpius has the full support of the Luxan and Scarran Empires. Frell, even Hyneria is on board."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Lemme guess, D'Argo uses his knowledge to destroy an entire planet full of people. Or, wait, did you want him to take out the entire system just to make sure?"

"I understand the position he is in…"

"He is a _kid_, Jothee; I was nearly twice his age when I had to make the same decision and it nearly destroyed me. I cannot, _will not_, force my son into the same position."

"We don't have a choice! This isn't like before where two squabbling empires were fighting over territory. We are talking about a galaxy-wide mind frell here. It would be the end of any life worth living. They don't just want to kill us, John, they want to take our _souls_."

Jothee's voice was earnest. He was not here as Scorpius' lapdog, he sounded genuinely concerned for his people. He was no longer the brash, freed slave who'd first arrived on Moya, nor was he the daring warrior that led his men into battle. No, Jothee, like the rest of the galaxy, had grown in the last eighteen cycles. When there are no wars to be fought, Generals become politicians. If Jothee had become a politician, that was enough of a reason not to trust him.

"That's where you're wrong, Jothee. The players are different but the game is still the same. Once this crisis is averted, then someone else with a bigger and badder plan will come along and we will be right back where we started. So maybe the Nebari have it right, maybe we _don't_ deserve to have the emotions we got."

"You don't mean that." Jothee's tone was firm, with a hint of suspicion.

"It is not my son's place to decide who lives and who dies," John declared solemnly.

"That's right, _you're_ the only one who can do that," his voice dripping with acid.

"That's not fair, Jothee."

On the planet below…

"What do you want me to do?" Goll asked, tossing him the pulse pistol from behind the bar.

"Find another gun," D'Argo assessed their adversaries again. "Or a frelling frag cannon."

D'Argo tucked the gun in the front of his waist band, making sure the handle was jutting out enough so that it was impossible not to notice.

As he pushed his way through the crowd, D'Argo thought of the words of wisdom his father had once given him. Of course, Dad was a little drunk at the time but the advice seemed stupid enough to be true.

_When your back's against the wall – and if you inherit any of my luck then it will happen frequently – walk up to the guy and say the cheesiest, dumbest thing you can think of. There is a fine line between coming off as an absolute idiot and a complete badass. So what the hell, leap._

"You will pay for your actions in blood," the Faecrian seethed, stepping closer to Relex.

"I'm your huckleberry," D'Argo said, breaking through the line of people and sauntering over, hoping his tone was as slow and methodic as he intended. "That's just my game."

"You intend to absolve this, _thing_, by taking his place?" the monster asked, turning to address the new player.

"That thing is my brother and it's your life that will be forfeit."

"You intend to slay us all?" he said with a laugh. "We will end your breath before you can draw your weapon."

"You're a daisy if you do." D'Argo stepped closer, craning his neck to stare the behemoth in the eye.

The being took another step towards D'Argo, his hard face unchanging, as if it were the only expression of which he was capable. D'Argo glanced at Relex, who had managed to slip a full bottle of liquor off the bar and held it at his side. The look on his face said that he was ready to strike if this went south. Goll also approached on the other side of the bar, holding something that was concealed by the counter.

The Faecrian was close now, D'Argo's hand moved slowly to his waistband. It looked like this was indeed going to go pear-shaped. D'Argo went for his weapon but was stopped as a massive hand grabbed his shoulder, immobilizing it. Relex spun with the bottle, aimed at the beast's eyes but his hand was caught before it even got close. Goll tried to bring his pulse rifle to bear but the third Faecrian had unsheathed his blade and brought it to his chin before he could even grasp the rifle's stock. They were dead in the water.

D'Argo silently cursed himself, _should have stuck with Star Wars_. Never breaking eye contact with the giant, he prepared himself for the thrashing he was about to receive. Instead the man began to laugh heartily, a cracked smile forming on his granite face.

"Loyalty," he rumbled, releasing his shoulder. The others joined in the laughter, releasing Relex's hand and taking the knife from Goll's throat. The three personified mountains then headed back to their table as if the entire incident had never happened.

Both friends approached the bar where Goll immediately poured three very strong drinks. None looked at the others.

"How long you been practicing that?" Relex asked after downing the drink, which Goll quickly replaced.

"A few cycles, just needed the right time. How'd it sound?" D'Argo said, hurrying to take a pull from the glass before his shaking hand spilt it all over the counter.

"Good. Good. Kinda wish you'd waited for a time when my frelling _life_ wasn't hanging in the balance."

D'Argo and Relex turned as all three looked at the huge warriors seated across the room.

Then they all looked at each other. And took a very large drink.

"Whatever, man. It _worked_. That's the important thing, right?" he asked, still in a bit of shock that they'd walked away alive and intact.

Goll gave him a dubious look and took a drink directly from the bottle.

In Commandant Braca's office, another stare-down was taking place…

"This was not part of our deal, Commandant!" the Prefect said angrily over the  
vid screen. The Prefect's ornate and colorful uniform was a substantial contrast to the unadorned deep crimson and black of the Commandant's.

"Problems, Prefect?" Scorpius said, coming into view over Braca's shoulder.

"Ahem, Chancellor Scorpius." The Prefect bowed his head slightly in greeting. Apparently a Commandant was as high of a rank as the Prefect was willing to go when it came to browbeating.

Braca respectfully stepped to the side to observe his leader operate. Though he would admit it to no one, he'd been unsure how Scorpius would handle the burden of becoming Chancellor. It had only taken a few solar days to realize that the traits that made Scorpius a great Captain were no different than those that made successful political leaders. As the Justice Prefect floundered on screen, it pleased Braca to note Scorpius' obvious mastery of intimidation, and manipulating men's wills to fit his own.

"What do you want, Thanos?" Scorpius queried with the air of one dealing with a tiresome nuisance.

"Chancellor, I agreed to help you gather information on D'Argo and assist wherever possible. But now my daughter is involved and that is unacceptable." The Prefect's attempt at asperity failed miserably.

"Tell me, how long does one stay Supreme Prefect on Molina?"

"For life," the Prefect said, his eyes dropping.

"And how long will the Supreme Prefect Colkia, being a Garrishean, outlive you?"

"By at least fifty cycles."

"Ah. So the only way you will achieve the power you so desperately seek, Justice Prefect, is with my help."

"Yes, Chancellor, I realize that, but my _daughter_…"

"Was made part of the deal the second you introduced her to D'Argo! Quite a clever plan, to keep close tabs on him. I applaud your ruthlessness by using your own daughter as an unwitting spy. I will continue to honor my side of our bargain, even despite your constant disruptions," Scorpius said, abruptly closing the link. There were more important matters being discussed on his base than the minor worries of a power-hungry politician. He had left the human and Luxan alone long enough.

On Molina…

"Frelling half-breeds. High Command must be _mad_ to let him govern," the Justice Prefect fumed angrily. "This has gone on long enough," he said decisively, then pressed his comm unit.

"Yes, sir?" the hardened voice responded.

"Commander Chaz'ri, get in here. I have a mission for you."

"That's not fair, Jothee."

"Crichton," his tone softening with subtle remorse. "You can see how far the virus has spread; we can't take out the transmitter by any other means. This _is_ the only way."

"How is this possible? I thought the Nebari could only transfer the virus through sex. And unless they've been taking lessons from Sting and Trudy, there is no way that they could spread it so far so quickly."

"Our scientists have been asking the same question since they first discovered the rapid proliferation of the contagion," Scorpius said, entering the room. "After cycles of interrogations and research, we were finally able to isolate the Nebari's new delivery method. Tell me, John, do you know what this is?" Scorpius asked, gesturing towards the viewscreen.

"Yeah, Mr. Peabody, it's a bio-scanner," John identified the image that replaced the star map.

"Correct. And do you know who owns the conglomerate that manufactures these devices?"

"Frell, something tells me it's not Willy Wonka."

Scorpius ignored the human's typically incomprehensible remark. "These are some of the most common instruments in the known galaxy. The ingenious part is that it can transmit the virus to any known species, even those previously untouched by the virus due their incompatibility with Nebari genitalia."

"So if they have the universe on the brink of a Dustin Hoffman movie, then why not just do it?"

"Our spies tell us that the Nebari are a few cycles away from releasing the virus, we are unsure why." Scorpius' tone changed, obviously aggrieved that such a crucial detail had evaded him.

"What about a cure? Penicillin? Robitussin? Chewable vitamins?"

"The damn thing is engineered to infect the chemistry of the victims' minds. And no matter how similar two beings may be, regardless of species or sex, it affects them differently," Jothee answered grimly.

"Peacekeeper scientists are able to 'cure' specific subjects, but the task is arduous and time-consuming. So much so that we have decided to only cure a few key leaders from each delegation in order to keep from raising the suspicions of possible Nebari spies," Scorpius continued.

"I betcha Sparky was the first in line for _that_ flu-shot," John commented dryly.

John found himself in a position that he had not felt in quite some time. It was hauntingly familiar and he felt remorse for even allowing the idle thought to enter his mind.

_I'm going to open my eyes and this will have all been a bad dream…_

He turned slowly and wearily opened his eyes. What he saw was definitely not Auntie Em and he was not back in Kansas. He was in the quarters of a megalomaniac with the son of his best friend, who blamed him for his father's death. Oh, and they wanted to ride his only child like Slim Pickens all the way down the rabbit hole. _This could not possibly get any worse… Oh, crap. I did not just think that._

"Wait, there's more, isn't there?" John said, covering his eyes with one hand and holding the other up as if to keep the world from falling on top of him.

"What do you mean, John?" Scorpius asked, puzzled once more by the human.

"I was just thinking that it couldn't get any worse and I only do that when it's about to, say it with me, kids, get worse. So go ahead, drop the other shoe."

"Well, actually…" Jothee hesitated.

"Fuck, I _knew_ it!" he snarled, throwing both hands up in exasperation.

"It's about Moya…"

A few arns later on the planet below, dawn broke and found D'Argo on a grassy plateau overlooking the city. Sweat dripped off his shirtless upper body, a small stream of blood running slowly down from a cut on his lip. Ever since he had been cleared by the Doc, he met Goll here every morning to train. There had been a few sessions where Goll had worked the late-shift at the club and could have easily excused himself from the work-outs, but he showed up every time.

"You got lucky," D'Argo said with a grin as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Maybe you're just slipping…" Goll responded, charging forward in an attempt to catch D'Argo off-guard.

D'Argo caught Goll's arm and used his friend's forward momentum to flip him over. Goll landed solidly on his back.

"Maybe not…" D'Argo said, offering his hand.

Then it hit him. It was early this morning. His muscles all tightened and cramped at once, forcing D'Argo to his knees. He would have screamed, but his throat had closed.

Goll instantly recognized the problem and ran to D'Argo's bag. After a frantic search he found the injector. By this point, the blood was beginning to well in his eyes and his body was turning pale. Veins pulsed in clear view as his body constricted and lurched. Goll jammed the injector against his neck and depressed the trigger. The serum penetrated instantly and D'Argo's clenched form began to loosen. After a few minutes, D'Argo found the strength to speak.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"Frell, D, if I had not been here…" Goll trailed off.

"But you were," D'Argo panted, placing a fatigued hand on his friend's shoulder.

Above them a different sparring match was taking place, except this one was verbal. At least for now…

"They have Moya?!" Aeryn demanded incredulously.

"Looks that way. Seems Scorpius got a hold of her a few cycles ago," John said, watching Aeryn pace back in forth in their suite. She had handled all news with admirable restraint so far, but upon hearing the news of Moya's capture... Well, that was the cruise missile that broke the Peacekeeper's back.

"But why? We made sure to destroy anything that could possibly help them research wormholes."

"I know, Jothee claims they did it for her own protection. Seems being the most famous Leviathan in the galaxy means a lot of collectors were trying to snag her."

"You believe him?" Aeryn asked jadedly."Not for a microt." The quickness of his own response surprising him.

"Alright, we are going down to that planet, getting our son and then freeing Moya." Aeryn said, turning to leave.

"I agreed." John said, dropping his head in self-reproach.

"You—! What?!"

"Scorpius said that D'Argo will not be able to use the knowledge until his mind matures enough to handle the stress. Their best guesstimate is sometime around his twentieth birthday. Now, Scorpy will allow D'Argo to live on this planet unmolested until that time. We have to agree to make no attempts to contact or rescue him, otherwise the deal is void and we have to fight the entire galaxy."

"So we are just going to leave him there?"

"Honey, these next two cycles may be his only chance left to enjoy his childhood, 'cause when he hits the big 2-0 the entire universe is going to want him to kill a lot of people. This may be the last bit of peace he has for rest of his life. He has Lind and his friends and we will be able to watch over him and Scorpius from here," John said, more calmly than he felt, rising from the bed and closing the distance between them.

He took her in his arms, but she pushed him back violently.

"No! I _do not_ accept that. I am going to free Moya, and if you have not come to your senses and developed a plan to rescue our son by the time I return, then Scorpius will be the _least_ of your problems."

As Aeryn stormed out of the room, on the planet below, some one was barging in.

"Doctor Agelus!" Felina called angrily, entering the hidden medical facility.

"Yes, Felina, I am here."

"You never told me that D'Argo was suicidal!"

"What? He is not; if anything he has a strong will to survive. The shock his body took from that gland could have easily killed a man with a lesser constitution."

"Then how do you explain him antagonizing three Faecrian warriors last night?"

"I am sure he had a good reason…"

"Being frelling farhbot is not a reason. Why he would risk his life for someone else…" Felina trailed off, unable to comprehend her half-brother's total disregard for self-preservation.

"It's called friendship." Guessing that the _someone_ Felina referred to was Relex, who did seem to have a knack for getting into situations such as the one she was describing.

"I am not paying you for your opinions, doctor. The only thing keeping the Peacekeeper death squad at bay is my good graces. So if you want to _stay_ in those good graces, I suggest you inform me of any other emotions, tendencies, or psychotic behavior that emerges," Felina said menacingly, before turning to leave.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" the doctor asked.

"The credits have been placed in your account," she responded, never breaking her stride as she exited.

"Just because I'm a good person, doesn't mean I'm not a criminal," he said to himself.

It had been two solar days since Aeryn had left the disguised base. She'd gotten Moya's location and intended to go 'visit' the captive Leviathan and her Pilot. John and Aeryn had spent few days apart since they'd settled on Molina and he missed her centering presence desperately. Her absence, compounded with his son's peril, magnified his feelings of helplessness and dread.

John laid his head against the back of his chair as an image of the apartment building D'Argo was in filled the screen. It was the middle of the night on the planet below and a single street lamp cast a hazy light over the doorway. He was so close to his son, but he couldn't be further away.

His idle mind tried to formulate a plan to grab his son and make a break for it, but he forcefully dismissed the thoughts. He'd read and reread the reports of what might happen if D'Argo entered space in his fragile state. But that was not the only reason he'd agreed to leave his son alone.

John would forsake his life, his very soul, to keep his son from the terrors he had experienced while being hunted. That feeling of dread, knowing that at any moment whatever happiness or solace he may find could be snatched away. The constant apprehension that your loved ones would be used as bait or worse; tortured, maimed, killed because of you. The mind-searing agony that was the aurora chair, the misery of a Scarran heat blast or the countless other torments that have been devised over the last few decades.

John told himself, _convinced_ himself, that if a killing a bunch of Stepford Nebari who were hell bent on taking over the galaxy was the price his son would have to pay, then so be it. John would be there to guide him and hopefully help put his life back together.

His head drooped as fatigue overcame him. He fell into an exhausted sleep.

He opened his eyes and froze at the scene before him. His quarters were replaced by an island surrounded by an expansive blackness. John recognized the emptiness and uneasiness that hung around him as the place he usually met Einstein. Except he had not flown into any wormhole and he was no longer on a glacier, but a desert. The snow was replaced by sparkling ginger-colored sand and the ice formations were now burnt-orange rock.

"I've been through the desert on a horse with no name..." John hummed nervously to himself. He reached out his hand to touch the rock wall and found its surface grainy and warm, as if it had been baking in the Nevada sun all day.

"Einstein!" John called out into the darkness, feeling exposed in the underwear and t-shirt he was wearing.

"John?" an anxious voice said, out of view. The voice immediately registered and forced him to go from nervous to panicked.

"Aeryn, is that you?"

"John, what the frell is going on?" Aeryn demanded as she came into view from behind one of the rock formations, also wearing sleeping garments. Which meant a pair of John's boxers and a skimpy sleeveless t-shirt.

"I don't know," he answered, going to her. The hostility between them melted as they came together.

"Time," a voice stated behind him.

John felt Aeryn's body freeze against his as he struggled to place the familiar voice. Definitely not Einstein.

Aeryn felt the little part of her soul left unassaulted over the last few solar days crumple under the weight of the person she was facing.

John turned slowly, until he faced the origin of the voice completely.

"Come to finish the job?" he asked.

"Not quite, Johnny-boy," Furlow answered, leering. "Nice jammies, Ace."


	6. Paradise Lost

Thanks to Nehaalshrug for bringing be back to the story.

**Chapter 6: Paradise Lost**

John took a step towards her but the sand in front of him gave way to a pool of shimmering blackness.

"Where's Einstein?" he demanded, taking the hint and stepping back.

"What are we doing here?" Aeryn asked before Furlow could answer.

"And what are _you_ doing here?" John continued the barrage of questions.

"Whoa there, boys and girls. One at a time. As for what am I doing here…" Furlow drawled, motioning to the pool at their feet. "Pay attention, flyboy."

The blackness of the puddle began to coalesce into swirling colors. The randomness of the pool began to take form and the image of John and Einstein slowly took shape. Soon their images were as distinct and clear as if they were merely on the other side of a window.

"_Tell me about the Ancients_," _John insisted._

"_Members of my species substantially modified to live in your realm."_

"_They're here to spy on us. Narcs."_

"_To catalogue, report and influence."_

"What is this John?" Aeryn asked as the image faded.

"My first trip down the bunny hole" John explained, dragging his thumb across his lip.

"The truth was always right in front of your eyes John, you just chose to ignore it" Furlow commented condescendingly.

"You're an Ancient?" John said, struggling with the consequences of the realization. Aeryn stood stoically by his side, but he could sense her growing unease.

"Yes, I am an Ancient. Or _was_ an Ancient."

"Just stop Furlow. I'm too old for riddles that are wrapped in enigmas that are living in a beach house with conundrums. Cut the bullshit and tell us why we are here."

"To catalogue, report and….influence." Furlow repeated Einstein's words back to them. "Like I said, you just weren't listening."

The puddle again displayed the first meeting between Einstein and John

"_I have little time. From the moment the Ancients implanted that knowledge, you exist to service a larger-" Einstein pleaded._

"_No____" the reflected John said, cutting Einstein short. "That's what __you__ want. My name is John Crichton. I'm not your pawn. "_

"Every civilization follows a similar pattern," Furlow began as the image faded. "Once it reaches a certain point in its history, does one of two things. Plunges itself into debilitating conflict or evolves and becomes enlightened. One your mud ball the called the Dark Ages and the Renaissance."

"Yeah, somebody woke up one morning and decided it was a bad idea to keep the dead plague victims in the drinking water. So what?"

"The enlightenment lasts for cycles, the civilization continues to evolve, eventually leaving their planets and exploring space. However, ultimately reaching the crossroads yet again. Millennia ago the Eidolons were present to ensure that peace would endure and enlightenment could continue. But they could not enforce that peace alone. Thus we guided them to Earth to stock the Peacekeeper race. Eighteen cycles ago the galaxy was once more about to head into crapper, but you know how that story ends."

"Yeah, the zebra did it" John commented dryly, the best he could do at this moment.

"It was not by coincidence or some sort of sublime providence..."

"Spit it out Furlow, I can see you're dying to do the evil-genius laugh."

"C'mon now Johnny-boy, didn't you think it was odd that everyone that passed through a wormhole, the Pathfinder and her crew, the Peacekeeper test pilots, all kicked it? But you and yours saw no ill effects from the journeys."

"What are you saying, that you _allowed_ us to travel safely? That our interactions were part of some big plan?"

"To a degree, yes. The power of ultimate destruction is not something that can be given to just _anyone_, y'know. While your human heritage is what drew us to you initially, your mind is often permeated by your emotions. These emotions are your greatest asset and ultimately a serious liability. We needed more than a good SAT score and a cute butt. Thus, we needed to test you."

The pool illustrated a quick cascade of images. John's 'visit' to the false Earth, his reactions, freeing Aeryn from the base and implantation of the wormhole knowledge by Jack. More images, of the Pathfinder ship stuck in Moya, his meetings with Furlow and then to events on Dam-Ba-Da. The battle, Jack, Furlow, the weapon, the destruction of the Dreadnaught and ultimately the other Crichton's death.

"Zhaan, the other Crichton, killed in freakin' _test?!_"

"While the Delvians sacrifice was admirable, it was not intended. The Pathfinder and her crew could not be allowed to return to their home world with the data they had collected. They had pocked their noses into to many honey pots.

As for the other Crichton, who I think was cuter by the way, when you were cloned it presented us with a truly unique opportunity to assess your resolve."

"But you killed Jack I-I saw his body" Aeryn choked, her emotions running the full gamut all at once.

"What you did not see were the two Charrid soldiers positioned in the hanger rafters watching our every move. His death was**…**unfortunate, but it was necessary to retain the stability of the trial. He was willing to give his life in order to discover if John was worthy of the gift he had given him."

"You would have risked giving the Scarrans wormhole tech in order to see if I had the balls to kill myself to keep it safe?"

"I'll say this in small words to keep form losing you. Soon afterward you would use your knowledge and end a cataclysmic conflict before it had a chance to destroy this galaxy and other realms too complex for you to understand.

"So then our job is done, let us go home." John said, knowing _that_ wasn't going to work.

"Not that easy Ace, your jobs are just beginning."

This time the puddle showed a young brown-haired boy throwing a ball with his father. His mother sat in the background, putting together the pieces of something that was shattered, apparently by the same ball.

"D'Argo" they chorused meekly.

"The Eidolons are going to be unable to prevent the Nebari from activating the contagion. The Nebari Establishment has no higher morals to appeal to, so the Eidolons' talents are useless in this conflict. _Their_ time has come and they will need your counsel, as frightening as that sounds."

"'Their?**'** What do you mean?"

The pool shimmered again, but this time they were not looking at a reflection in the water. Their minds were transported to a time they both, to this day, strove desperately to forget.

"_Push, baby, push____" John said____ holding her hand._

"_I frelling remember!" she said, releasing her grip on his hand and moving it directly to his throat._

"_Ack— Right, doin' great____ baby." John squeezed out as he wrestled to loosen her hold. He would have thought that without the pulse fire, explosions, and that whole people-trying-to-kill-them thing, this delivery would be easier. John was wrong a lot____ it seemed._

"_Arrrgh!" Aeryn grunted._

"_Very good____ Mrs. Crichton, keep going____" the doctor encouraged, a concerned look on his face. _

_John looked over his shoulder at the bio-screen behind him. There seemed to be a lot of red numbers on it that weren't there a few minutes before. They were told their normal physician was in surgery and was unreachable. John didn't like the idea of some random doctor delivering his child, but he didn't have much say in the matter. Also, Aeryn was likely to feed him his own mivonks if he suggested delaying the birth._

"_Is everything alright____ doc?" John asked, worried._

"_Fine, keep pushing!" his tone not comforting or reassuring; something was clearly wrong._

_John felt his heart leap as the head and body came into view._

"_Almost there____ baby," John said softly. "God, she is beautiful."_

_Once the baby was out and the cord cut, the doctor began sternly barking orders to his nursing staff. A small med stretcher was rushed in and the child was placed carefully on it._

"_What the frell is going on?!" John demanded, as the doctor wheeled the newborn out of the room. _

"_Mr. Crichton, I need you to remain calm____" a nurse said____ blocking him from following the doctor. _

"_Don't tell me to remain calm, where did you just take my daughter?" Raking her with wintry blue eyes._

"_There was a problem with the delivery…"_

"_John?" Aeryn called, her voice uncharacteristically frightened._

"_It's ok, honey, I'm here____" John said, rushing back to her._

"_I wanna see her, I want to hold her____" she appealed anxiously._

"_I know____ babe, they're just making sure she doesn't have any Hynerian in her____" John said____ forcing a smile._

_Moments later, a sullen figure appeared in the doorway. Aeryn and John each read the doctor's reaction instantly, and their souls crashed together._

"_Where's our baby, doc?"_

"_Mr. Crichton, I don't know how to tell you this…" his admission cut short as John rushed forward. He seized the shocked doctor and heaved him hard against the delivery room wall._

"_There was nothing I could do! The child never had a chan…" his words were lost as John thrust his muscular forearm against the doctor's throat._

"_She gave birth in the middle of a frelling war zone," John seethed through clenched teeth. "We are in a fucking hospital!" The tears were flowing freely now._

"_Mr. Crichton, please____" the nurse said____ attempting to restrain him; her efforts were rejected with a violent shove._

_Aeryn lay motionless on the delivery table, long-reprised fears and pangs of loss striking her fragile psyche all at once. She could not even cry yet._

_The doctor's face was turning white from the pressure of John's hold, but soon the only force greater than his contempt for the doctor would emerge._

"_Dad?" a frail, concerned voice asked from the doorway._

_John cut his eyes, the image of a five-cycle-old D'Argo standing there petrified._

"_There you are____ narl!" Chiana's effervescent voice bubbling as she appeared behind him. "I have been chasing you all over the…" her eyes widened as John released the doctor____ who promptly slumped to the floor._

"_C'mon, lil'D, let's go find something sweet to eat____" Chiana said with mock appeal as she led the wide-eyed child away._

"_What happened?" John rasped stonily , after giving the doctor a few moments of hacking and coughing._

"_I don't know for sure. Perhaps the unique nature in which your first child was implanted into Aeryn from the Hynerian or that your DNAs simply could not produce another healthy offspring. All we know is that the child never had a chance."_

"Enough!" John snarled kicking a clump of sand into the pool to disperse the image. He took Aeryn's hand; they'd had thirteen years to overcome the soul-weakening loss of that day. But the pain still felt fresh. The failed birth was what stopped them from releasing other children from stasis. They told themselves that one day they would try again, but no specialist could give them concrete reasons for the child's death. They had so much tragedy in their lives, the potential to add more seem masochistic.

"Why are you showing us this?" Aeryn asked wounded, tears streaming down her face.

"The distinctive gland in your son's mind, which only your combined genetics can create, is not alone. There is another."

Their hearts both seemed to stop beating as Furlow's words were processed.

"I do not know how, but we have sensed its presence and in a few cycles she will begin to blossom as your son is."

"She? As in our daughter? The same daughter we just watched die, for a second time?"

"How is that possible?"

"We are not omnipotent; her survival is a mystery to us as well."

"That's bullshit." He fumed, he seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

"We have no clue how she survived the birth or her present location. I only have her name to, Bel Merrin. I got no reason to lie to you; this will be our last meeting."

"What, why?"

"Jack was not lying when he said he found a planet for us to live on. My species will remain there tucked away in safety; we cannot risk being contaminated by the contagion. Einstein and the rest of the fathering race were forever cut off from this reality by the fissures caused by the wormhole weapon. A side effect that was unavoidable. When he came to you on Moya to remove wormhole knowledge from your mind, he sealed the opening behind him to prevent further degradation. As for me, the mental stress of bringing you both here will undoubtedly kill me soon. I know your both heartbroken."

"John, she is alive." Aeryn turned to him, shock and confusion but also hope in her eyes.

"I know babe and we gotta find her."

"And soon Should the Nebari release the contagion before you find her and your son, the consequences would be real bad" Furlow added.

"I can't go, Scorpy is watching me too closely and the last thing we need is to have another child for him to hang over us."

"I'll go; I'm already away from the base. What about…?"

"Don't worry about Moya, I'll convince Scorpy to have her brought to me."

"Then what?"

"I'm gonna do what I shoulda been doin' from the start," John said, turning towards Furlow to make sure she heard it, too. "Give our son another option."

As John lethargically awoke from the existential meeting that had taken place, dawn was breaking on the planet below. The rise of the sun gave light to the other constant of the day; D'Argo's training.

"Y'know, I'm beginning to see why you never simply changed my DNA to hide me" D'Argo said to the phantom vision of his father who appeared to be holding D'Argo's feet to the ground as he did sit-ups. D'Argo had never had a habit of talking to himself before coming here, but he found this delusion helped quell the homesickness.

"You think we knew this would happen?" the vision of his father responded.

"Did you?" D'Argo paused at the top of his rep. The question had been bothering him and he wished he could ask his real father.

"You're not gonna be able to stay here forever."

"I know. But I can't see how going back to Molina is a solution."

"Your mother is worried. She misses you. And she is taking out all her frustration on me."

"I figured as much" D'Argo replied with a chuckle, continuing his workout. "I need to figure out what's inside my head."

"Are you so sure you'll want to know?" the question lingered as the familiar sound of treaded gravel signaled the arrival of someone to the plateau.

"You're early" D'Argo said by way of greeting, hopping to his feet. He was surprised to see it was not Goll who had joined him this morning.

"And you're alone. I thought I heard you speaking to someone" Felina said inquisitively.

"Just thinkin' out loud. Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I heard about these sessions and I was wondering if you could give me a shot. I studied some fighting arts on my home planet" she said, walking over to him.

"I'm not quite sure how comfortable I'd be with that."

The words were barely out his mouth when a sharp blow struck his face with lightning quickness. The power and unexpectedness of the blow threw him off-balance and he landed smartly on his backside.

"It must be more comfortable than being down there." Felina smiled arrogantly.

"Fair enough," D'Argo challenged, rising to his feet. He took a defensive stance, which she matched.

He gave her a coy wink, to which she responded with another jab. However, he was ready this time and blocked it. They circled in the brown dirt, their eyes shifting from hips, to shoulders, to hands and always back to eyes.

Her blows were direct but sporadic. There was no consistency to her attack; she was all over the place. Her stance and the fluidity of her motions proved she had extensive training, but her strikes mirrored chaos. Then it occurred to him.

She was probing. His mother used to do it whenever she wanted to test D'Argo's progress in certain fighting styles. But it didn't make any sense, why should she want to test him? More importantly, why would she feign weakness?

"So you and Relex really seem to be hitting it off" D'Argo commented, blocking another blow with his forearm.

"Yes, we have great fun together" she replied, her punches unabated by the conversation.

"So it seems. He talks about you all the time, but he's never mentioned your history."

"Oh?" she thrust in with her elbow.

"Yeah, y'know, where you're from and what you're doing here" D'Argo said ducking under the blow.

"I'm just like the rest of you, on the run" she said, dropping her arms as a sign to rest.

"Told you about that, huh?" he replied, mirroring the gesture.

"Indeed. I am from a planet called Karpathika. My mother was a noble and selfless queen who was murdered by my inferior father because he was jealous of her. I escaped before he could do the same to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that" D'Argo responded earnestly.

Felina nodded then struck with the speed of coiled viperher fist jamming into his sternum driving all the breath from his lungs. D'Argo fell to his knees, gasping for air, but Felina merely eyed him with a predatory sneer and planted her foot on his chest driving him flatly to the ground.

"Do not _ever_ feel sorry for me" she said slowly, straddling his body and bringing her face close to his.

D'Argo was stunned by her attack and behavior, as she hovered denches from his face a strange smile on her lips. She moved in closer, her hair falling in a fragrant ebony curtain around his face, mingled with the scent of her sweat. Her full lips drew slowly closer to his, a seeming moment in time forever suspended in those few breaths between mystery and discovery.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" an obviously indignant Lind sniped, with what appeared to be refreshments dropped at her feet.

"No, I'm done with him" Felina said superciliously, rising to her feet. "He's all yours." She walked past the fuming girlfriend down the trail leading back to the city.

"Having fun?" she asked in a brittle tone, hands clenched on her hips.

"Lind, honey, it's not what it looks like" D'Argo lamely made a hopeless attempt.

"It looks like that tralk was straddling you on the ground."

"Well, okay, technically, it _is_ what it looks like. But it's not what you're _thinking_."

"You do not want to know what I'm thinking right now" she spat, turning to leave.

"Lind wait!" D'Argo pleaded, rising painfully to his feet the soreness in his ribs a strong reminder of how he ended up on the ground in the first place. By the time he had composed himself, she was out of sight.

"Smooth" an ethereal voice mocked him.

"Shut up, Dad."

"Listen Scorpy, if I'm gonna be stuck orbiting this planet for the next couple of cycles then I'm gonna need my own space" John said as they walked down the crowded corridor.

"I understand that, John, but your request is unacceptable."

"C'mon Scorpy-sue, I'm giving you the island of Manhattan. I just want my shiny beads" John stepped in front of him to block the hybrid. In that moment he realized that all the Peacekeepers in sight were looking at him strangely. On the surface this was nothing new. Whenever he was around the Space Nazis, they regarded him with obvious contempt. Nevertheless, since he had been on this base he could sense the contempt was coming from a different place.

"They fear you," Scorpius leaned in closer, eerily sensing John's thoughts. "You have become mythic since the war's end. It is no longer Cholak's demon that snatches disobedient children in the night but John Crichton, harbinger of death."

"Harbinger of Death? Well it's better than the nickname I had at summer camp. **'**Course now I'll need new business cards."

"And what of your wife, did she not leave to go see the Leviathan?" Scorpius asked suspiciously.

"Well, that's the other part of the deal, we had bit of a tussle and I was hoping…"

"That if the Leviathan was here, she would have to come back."

"Something like that, yeah." John should have tried this sooner. Scorpius trusted ulterior motives. That was something he was very used to, even comfortable with.

"Very well, you will have your Leviathan" he said, placing his hand on John's shoulder. The human still reflexively winced whenever he touched him, proving that ingrained apprehension does not quell with time.

It had been eighteen solar days since John got word that Moya was on her way. Hopefully she should arrive within the next solar day. He wasn't sure how, but he was gonna have to release the command collar and get her and Pilot out of here.

He hated to leave his son, but he seemed relatively safe, as illogical as that sounded what with Scorpius doing the Truman Show thing from the moon. Nevertheless, the only option he saw that didn't end in his son committing mass murder was by taking out the threat before D'Argo had to. As he flopped tiredly onto his bed he could not help but laugh at his current predicament. _When did my life shift from Space Opera to Soap opera?_ He thought as sleep took him.

On the planet below the massive seasonal storm was at full pitch. Torrents of chilling rain assaulted the ground. The brief blue flashes of lightning threw contrast against the glistening blackness of the wet pavement. Underneath a covered walkway, two friends were making their way home lost in the roaring storm and their conversation.

"I'm telling you it'd be the draddest!" Relex shouted to be heard over the rain pounding against the roof above their heads.

"You're an idiot, you know that? No one is gonna watch 'Relex the Movie'" D'Argo said with a chuckle, clapping his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Sure they would! I'm charismatic, good looking**…"**

"…full of dren**…**"

"Of course I would have to star…and direct…and write… and produce" Relex listed thoughtfully.

"Relex you don't even know what half those words mean."

"Ah," Relex said, stopping their walk and raising a single finger like a triumphant detective. "I see where this hostility is coming from. You're afraid you won't be in it. Fear not, every hero needs a sidekick."

"What!? If anything you're _my_ sidekick."

As D'Argo said this, the two friends stepped back from each other to allow two huddled people to walk past. However, the two people quickly shed their heavy coats to reveal black Peacekeeper armor. Each brought the butt of their rifle across the young friends' faces. D'Argo and Relex crumpled to the ground, the blood flowing from their noses lost in the pelting rain.

"Targets neutralized, you may proceed" one of the attackers said into his helmet comms.

"Conceal yourselves and hold position until confirmation." A grizzled voice responded into his ear piece.

A few city blocks awayanother two men in Peacekeeper armor stood patiently outside a nondescript apartment building. When the call came in, it brought a smile to a hard gleam to the older mans green eyes. The solar days of planning made this operation seem deceptively easy. The Prefect had told Chaz'ri of Lind location and the Peacekeeper involvement, ordering him to return Lind as well as two sebecan young men. D'Argo was to captured and placed into custody. However, should he resist, then Chaz'ri had the authority to _adjudicate_ as he saw fit. Using the electrical storm as a cover to disrupt the Peacekeeper surveillance devices surrounding the complex worked perfectly. The four-man Shadow squad assigned to the young friends was lazy and easily overpowered. Chaz'ri ordered his men to wear the Peacekeeper armor as a precaution and to protect their identity. Soon this nightmare would be over and Lind would be back at home. He motioned to the other soldier and they made their way to the complex.


	7. Fae's of Our Lives

**Chapter 7: ****The****Fae's**** of Our Lives**

"Let's get these two off the walkway" one said to the other as they reached down to pick up Relex. A collection of metal refuse containers in the side alley seemed to the most convenient choice to stash the unconscious pair. After tucking Relex into one of the larger containers, they turned to haul D'Argo's body.

They were shocked to see that the walkway was empty Reflexively, they tried to bring their rifles to bear but it was too late. D'Argo stepped out from behind another of the containers, swinging a heavy metal plate. The blow connected with a crack on one of the soldier's heads and drove his freshly-knocked-out form into the otherwho tried to shrug off his partner and fire a shot, but simply did not have the time or skill.

D'Argo brought the plate down squarely onto the soldier's head, driving it down unnaturally against his neck. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground on top of his partner. D'Argo dropped the plate and went to check on Relex.

"Well, _that_ was not in the script" he groaned a few moments later as he came to.

"Looks like our cover is blown," D'Argo said helping Relex to his feet. They armed themselves with the felled Peacekeepers' weapons.

"Go grab Goll at the nightclub, I'll get Lind. We'll meet at the bunker."

A few weekens ago, D'Argo and Goll stumbled upon a run down communications bunker on the outskirts of the city. The equipment was antiquated and deemed not worth stealing by criminals. Nevertheless, with Lind's skill and Relex's credits they had to got most of the devices operational. They had stashed weapons, changes of clothes and a large quantity's of D'Argo's serum their as a contingency. Seemed today was when that contingency had become a eventuality.

"Right," Relex agreed as the two turned to head in opposite directions. "Hey, D!" he said stopping after a few hurried steps.

"Yeah?" D'Argo said expecting a smart-ass comment or macho bravado. Instead he got a solemn response.

"Don't get dead."

"You either, brother" he said with a nod.

Commander Chaz'ri entered the bedroom and eyed the sleeping form of Lind Thanos. He was her sworn protector since birth, an honor he carried effusively. His commitment to her and the Thanos family entailed that he would never have children of his own. As a Guardian he was allowed no emotional ties that could used as leverage in attempts or coercion. Some found the tradiation harsh and dispassionate, but he never regretted his decision. While Lind was not his biological child his love of her could not have been deeper. He was present for many of the moments the Justice Prefect was too busy to attend and was her sole source of comfort when her mother passed away as a child. When she started seeing the Crichton boy, Chaz'ri objected immediately. He was too brash and his parents lacked the moral fiber needed to raise a child worthy enough to court Lind. His concerns were constantly ignored and dismissed by her father. It was odd that the Prefect seemed to share in Chaz'ri's dislike for the boy but refused any his requests interference or dissuasion. That all changed when Lind was kidnapped by the half-breed fool. His orders were clear and Lind would be returned to safety.

Two pulse blasts coming from the hallway snapped Chaz'ri back into the moment. Lind awoke from the sound as well and shrieked at the sight of an armored peacekeeper standing in her room. She went for something on the night stand, but the agile bodyguard reached there first.

"Easy, young one. I am not here to hurt you." He said soothingly through his helmet.

The confusion on her face showed she recognized the voice, but could not place its docile tone with the menacing hulk before her. Chaz'ri eased the bewilderment by taking of his helmet revealing his warm and leathery face and clear green eyes.

"Chaz?" she whispered perplexed.

"Yes, it is me. I have come to bring you home."

"But-but…" her stammering was cut off as a the bedroom door burst open.

"Hands off Peackeeper! Unless you wanna join your buddy on the killed in action list."

"You will not leave this place, Crichton." Chaz'ri said slowly turning around. His penchant of mercy disintegrating for the vulgar half-breed. "Not for the murder you so callously speak of, nor for the stress you have placed on the Justice Prefect, not even for the crime of kidnapping his daughter. No, you will die tonight because your viral ways must be stopped."

"Nice speech, Chazy. But you seem to be forgetting I have a pulse rifle aimed at your chest."

"Do you?" Chaz'ri said slowly raising his hands. D'Argo eyed him uneasily and then he saw something in his palm. Before he could react a burst of searing white light filled the room and plunged D'Argo into momentary blindness. He heard the rushing footsteps but was too daze to protect himself.

They crashed together into the living room, Chaz'ri abandoning his rifle to handle this threat in a more primal way. D'Argo tried to reach for his weapon but was stopped as Chaz'ri lifted him off the ground and slung him into the hard metal wall.

Chaz'ri went in for a strike, but D'Argo blocked it and thrust his elbow into the older warrior's nose. Feeling the bone and cartilage resist than crush form the force gave D'Argo a primitive satisfaction. The spots in his vison decreasing, he squared off against the elder soldier.

"You've broken my nose." Chaz'ri commented almost impressed, reeling form the blow.

"Your neck is next." He responded conjuring all the contempt he could muster.

"I think not." Chaz'ri said, thrusting toward him. He under-estimated the younger mans fighting prowess once tonight. A mistake he would not duplicate. D'Argo managed to repel some of Chaz'ri's attacks, but his will was running thin. Eventually a jab made it through and exploded across his chin. A driving knee into his midsection forced D'Argo to collapse in a spurt of blood. Chaz'ri eyed the broken teen with a maniacal gleam aided by small pulse pistol he drew from his belt.

"I had to sit idly by and watch you containment her. Infected her mind with impure thoughts and warp her psyche to fit in the miserable squalor you and your family reside. But no longer! I'll burn you out of her life like the cancerous tumor you have become." Chaz'ri declared, aiming the pistol at D'Argos skull.

"C'mon now Chaz, tell me how you really feel." He spit out, along with the blood welling in his mouth.

The pulse blast rang out, finding its target truly. The smell of burnt flesh and seared material hung viscerally in the room. The shock and surprise flooded out of his mind as his body went cold. _It was not supposed to end like this. Not with her…_ Commander Chaz'ri's thought as his body collapsed to the ground.

D'Argo saw the panicked and terrified Lind, still holding the pulse rifle at her side. A wisp of smoke lifting slowly from the barrel. Her eyes where lifeless and unmoving. D'Argo groaned trying to get to his feet to go to her, but his moved seemed to snap her back to reality. She dropped the weapon and rushed to him, her face unreadable but clearly emotional.

She wordlessly got him to his feet and D'Argo and they headed for the exit.

"Wait…" Chaz'ri sputtered weakly.

The both turned, hauneted and unable to run.

"P-Peacekeepers, here. Y-Y-You must run. Es-escap…" he words guttarly drowned out as his body went flaccid.

It didn't make any sense. If Chaz'ri was working with the Peacekeepers, why would he warn them? If he wasn't, why was he and his men wearing the armor. A mystery for another time they both silently agreed, heading to the bunker.

"You guys alright?" Goll asked apprehensively as Lind and a battered D'Argo entered the bunker.

"Frell you look like dren." Relex said his bloddy and brusied friend. All of sudden his nose did not hurt so bad.

"You have anything in the showroom that can get us out of here?" D'Argo asked, taking a seat on the table and began cleaning his wounds with the med supplies they had stashed.

"Sure we got some ships but none faster than a Prowler or Marauder" Relex answered pessimistically.

"What we need is a Leviathan" Goll said, a far-off gleam in his eye.

"Frell, Goll. Enough about Leviathans, I thought you grew out of that."

As children they had all badgered the elder Crichtons about tales of adventure aboard the legendary Moya, except for Goll. He was more interested in the ship itself. He became fascinated with Leviathan biology and numerous scale models that he'd built over the cycles still littered his room.

"A Leviathan's natural defense is starburst. Something even the most sophisticated Peacekeeper vessel cannot accurately track" Goll argued, justifying his intrigue.

"We might as well wish for wings and a rocket up your eema, because we don't _have_ a Leviathan."

"Uh, guys. That may not be entirely true" Lind said from her console, voice hollow from the events of this night. Even with the traumatic loss of her personal bodyguard, she still focused her mind on the task at hand.

"What do you mean Lind?"

"A Leviathan just entered the system, picked it up on an inspection station roster, looks like it's headed towards the mining outpost on the moon. ETA is about an arn."

"Is it wearing a control collar?" Goll inquired excited.

"Oh yeah, a big one."

D'Argo gave Goll an appraising glance.

"Given enough time I could probably disengage it" Goll said, a twinge of a smile forming.

"Oh no…" Relex muttered in resignation, gently probing his what-felt-like-broken nose, after seeing the looks Goll and D'Argo were trading.

"When the Leviathan went through the inspection point its pilot did not declare any cargo or passengers" Lind read off the screen.

"So?" Relex did not like what was forming here.

"So, most Leviathans are used for cargo and personal travel and this one doesn't appear to be docking or dropping off passengers, so it may be pretty much empty" D'Argo reasoned.

"Wait, wasn't the Leviathan your parents were on a prison ship?"

"Yes…"

"So then it's pretty likely that the Leviathan out there is _our_ prison ship. The one these Peacekeeper frellniks meant to take us on."

"It's possible" D'Argo conceded the likelihood.

"So you're suggesting we hotwire a transport, somehow figure out how board a prison ship undetected, then, and this part is my _favorite_ part, overtake the crew and steal a living ship the size of a budong!"

"First off, stop prattling like a little girl." D'Argo scolded, gently scrubbing a cut on his face.

"A Levithan is not as big as a budong." Goll added, apparently not seeing the sarcasm.

"Well what if it doesn't _want_ to be stolen?" He sniped back, angry no one was heeding his legiatamte concerns."

"Then we will just have to convince it" D'Argo said firmly, but he saw Relexs point. Once freed from the control collar, there'd be no way to compel the Leviathan.

"Wait, where are you going?" Relex asked as D'Argo headed towards the exit.

"I'm gonna get some help."

"Am I honorable?" he asked firmly to the three crimson figures seated around the table in the smoky bar.

"Yes" one man-mountain said after recognizing his face.

"Loyal?"

"Yes" another replied.

"Feel like making 10,000 credits and busting some Peacekeeper skulls?"

_That_ piqued their interest. "Most definitely" the last one said aggressively.

"You're hired, grab your gear and meet me at these coordinates in under half an arn." D'Argo directed, pleased with how this had gone. He wasn't dead and that's about the best he could hope for when hiring mercenaries.

"We will need names" one rumbled as they all rose from the table stopping D'Argo's exit.

"What?"

"We cannot dishonor our families by using our own names in work such as this. As our employer we give you the honor of naming us."

"Ooooo-k. You're Sparky," he said pointing to the tallest of the three.

"You're Guido," he called the one whose horns were redder than the others.

"And you're Buckwheat" he declared, patting the Faecrain with a slight blue tint to his crimson hide.

"These are proud warrior names?" Guido asked uncertainly.

"Uhm, sure." D'Argo turned towards the door to hide a mischievous smile.

D'Argo rounded the corner and came in sight of the bunker. This was a risky plan that had potential to go belly up quickly. Not to mention he was unsure what was going to happen to his mind when entered outer space.

"Whoa," D'Argo said as her noticed Felina loading a bag onto the transport.

"What is he doing here Relex?" asked angrily as his friend run up to meet him.

"She is scared, D'Argo. What I was I supposed to do, leave her here."

"Yes! What would have been wrong with that?"

"Would you have left Lind?"

"Easy there, brother, she is not Lind." His tone dropping to show that was a button not push.

"I know, I know. For better or worse, she is involved. If we manage to get out of here then they are going to come after her to try and find us." Relex reasoned.

"The same could be said for Doctor Agelus, but I don't see you trying to find him."

"I admit my feelings for her could have possibly influenced my decision. But, frell D, she is the first girl I have ever been with where I'm not constantly looking for the bigger and better deal. Plus, she's on the run same as us, she doesn't belong here anymore than we do."

"Alright," D'Argo concede with a sigh. He didn't like this at all, but Relex was right. They couldn't just leave her.

The four friends and new companion were huddled in the cramped cockpit of the transport while the three Faecrians warriors waited impatiently in the cargo hold.

"Wow that's big." Even Goll was astonished as the gold Leviathan came into view.

"That's _really_ big" D'Argo added, thinking maybe this plan was not such a good idea. During the last half-arn they had argued over how exactly to get onto the ship undetected. Forcing their way in was not an option, so it left them with only one alternativepersuasion

"Alright, D, line's open" Golls said, flipping a switch on the console.

"Pilot, my name is D'Argo Sun-Crichton. My parents told me great tales of the majesty of Leviathans and their wise pilots. They also told me how the Leviathan species is mercilessly hunted and subjugated by Peacekeepers. Me and my companions are also being chased by those Peacekeepers, which gives us a common enemy. So, we propose a bargain. We will rid you of the Peacekeeper presence onboard and the control collar, in return you starburst us out of here to safety. Otherwise, we will all spend the rest of our lives in Peacekeeper custody. The choice is yours." D'Argo leaned back in the chair as the link closed.

"You sure broadcasting your real name was a good idea?" Relex asked.

"Lying is a hard way to ask trust."

They were getting closer and the hanger bay doors remained mockingly sealed.

50 motras.

D'Argo and Lind traded apprehensive glances, Goll eyes the ships readings nervously, and Relex was looking at Felinas backside. Something's even stress can not change.

25 motras

Goll began plotting an alternate course and D'Argo gripped the flight controls nervously.

15 motras

"It's not going happen," D'Argo said preparing to reverse thrust to keep them from crashing into the side of the ship.

"Wait," Lind said, placing her hand on D'Argo's.

The ship shook slightly as the docking web snared and then brought them towards the slowing open doors and to the hard part of this farboht idea of theirs.

"Plan?" one of the Faecrains asked poking his head into the cockpit.

"Just a list of things that don't happen Buckwheat." Relex said flippantly, leaning forward to talk to D'Argo. "Whatcha think?"

"Well, shooting a lot has seemed to work in the past."

"True. I find that cursing also helps."

"We gotta get Goll to the Command deck to disengage that collar. Someone is gonna need to go to the pilot's den to keep him from spacing us the microt this Leviathan is free. I figure most of the opposition will be heading to Command."

"Right, so I'll go talk to the pilot" Relex said through a self-deprecating smile.

"We will send Sparky with Lind and Felina to the pilot's den and hopefully out of harm's way. The rest of us will make our way to Command and hopefully not to our deaths."

"Very optimistic."

"I try."

"Try harder."

With Goll leading the way they made it about halfway to Command before they ran into resistance. Seems that not only had Pilot allowed them to land, but he also did not warn the crew of their arrival. Two armored commandos and a uniformed officer were quickly taken by surprise.

The Faecrians were quick and thorough, but did not seem to have the bloodlust that D'Argo had always associated with warrior species. The three friends watched as Guido and Buckwheat moved in unison, assaulting the soldiers and then knocking them out coldnever firing a shot or using unnecessary force. In fact, they made it look mundane.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a red, white and blue blur streak down the corridor. A hauntingly familiar tune reverberated faintly off the walls. D'Argo could not place the melody and its presence was enough to take him momentarily out of the battle. The two pulse blasts burning into the wall next to his head promptly brought him back.

Another commando had come into the hallway and entrenched himself behind a bulkhead. The two Faecrians rushed him but the Peacekeeper was a quick shot. Two pulse blasts sparked against the hard surface of Buckwheat's chest, propelling him backwards. However, the Peacekeeper was not fast enough to get Guido.

The Faecrian plowed his massive shoulder into the commando driving him hard against the ship's wall. Once he dropped harmlessly to the floor, ribs crushed, the three friends came out from behind their cover. They slowly moved towards the fallen Faecrian, the smoldering black scorch mark a subtle contrast to the deep crimson color of his hide.

"Come" Guido ordered, motioning for them to leave.

"What about…"

"We can't just leave—"

"Come!" Guido demanded firmly, to which the three friends obliged. They knew nothing of Faecrian customs, only of their tempers.

Lind, Felina and Sparky finally arrived at the Pilot's den. Goll's directions were surprisingly accurate. They encountered little opposition, only one shocked and unarmed crewmember who was easily dispatched. The DRDs buzzed busily at their feet, their presence lost in their awe of the massive cavern they entered. Even the jaded Felina was impressed at the intricate heart of the Leviathan. Pilot manipulated the vast and complicated controls effortlessly ignoring their entrance. It was only after they had nervously crossed the catwalk and arrived at his station that he regarded them.

"DRDs confirm the identity of D'Argo Sun-Crichton. Moya and I were quite skeptical when we received your transmission."

"Did you say _Moya_" Lind asked dumbfounded.

"That is correct."

"This Leviathan's name is Moya? As in the most famous Leviathan that ever lived?"

"Indeed, although she finds the title…uncomfortable."

Seemed the rest of the crew had rooted themselves in Command.

"Repeat, we are under attack!" the Peacekeeper captain shouted into his comms over the pulse fire.

"It's no good, Pilot is blocking all transmissions!" his second officer reported. Well, technically he was now the first officer considering his former superior lay dead next to him.

The captain surveyed what was left of his crew Two commandos and one other officer were all that seemed to remain. While they were evenly numbered against their attackers, it was obvious who the victor of this battle would be. The crew was pinned down and escape from Command was not possible, since the Pilot had apparently mutinied as well.

_This is going well, too well_, D'Argo thought. They had the crew in an inescapable position and the Pilot seemed to be fully on their side. Even with Goll's shaky trigger and Relex's sporadic aim, they could overwhelm them and take the room by force. However, they were running out of time. The loss of Chaz'ri's squad and the lack of comms traffic with this ship surely had to have been noticed by now. This conflict needed to be resolved, pronto.

"Hey Captain!" D'Argo yelled after motioning for everyone to stop firing.

"Ready to surrender?"

D'Argo chuckled. Either he had a sense of humor or was _that_ brainwashed by PK hype.

"Not quite, here's the deal. Put down your weapons; disengage the control collar and you're free to go."

"Boy you must be a real frellnik. We would all be executed for allowing this Leviathan to escape. No deal!"

The captain popped up from behind his cover and opened fire. His shots spread out, peppering the room with sparks. The Faecrian, unfazed by the surge, took aim and rid the captain of his head.

The two remaining soldiers, enraged by their captain's demise or deciding to go out in a blaze of glory, exposed themselves and opened fire. Guido downed one before taking multiple shots to the midsection. The remaining soldier turned his aim towards D'Argo, but this was not the night to test his mettle. He smoothly depressed the trigger spewing its scarlet fury into the doomed soldier.

"Sir, we have yet to make contact with Moya" the comms officer reported.

"Has D'Argo Crichton's Shadow team responded yet?" Braca inquired.

"No sir, the electrical storm on the planet is still interfering with our communications."

"Launch the Prowlers" Scorpius ordered striding into the control room.

"Sir?" Braca asked with a raised eyebrow.

"And get Crichton in here now! This is no coincidence."

"Sir, we will be compromising our cover if…" the officer's objection was silenced when Scorpius thrust his head into his console.

"Now!"

"Two Prowlers have just been launched from the mining station" Pilot said, his image appearing on the clamshell.

"What are Prowlers doing on the mining station?"

"Uh," the second officer, or new captain as it seemed, said slowly rising with his hands up. "It's not; it's a disguised Gammak base."

"And you're volunteering this info because…"

"Well if I try and fight back, you'll kill me. If I escape, the Peacekeepers will kill me. So the only option I have that doesn't end with me being killed is surrendering."

"Imagine that," Relex said, untensing. "Peacekeepers _do_ have common sense."

"Can you disengage the control collar?" D'Argo asked, unwilling to lower his weapon just yet.

"Afraid not, I had never even been on a Leviathan until I got this assignment. Frell I don't even know the ship's name. Plus, you need a high security code..."

"Relex bind his hands, Goll get to work on the control coll…" he froze as he turned to see a resurrected Buckwheat rubbing a block of orange substance on the pulse burns of Guido's midsection.

"We thought you were…"

"Small arm pulse fire cannot pierce our outer skin. However, the heat from the blast does penetrate and cannot escape our bodies. The shock from the sharp rise in temperature momentarily shuts down our internal functions."

"And that stuff," Goll motioned to the bar. "Helps?"

"No, the inner fire is a right of passage for our kind. We allow it burn to give honor to those that have fallen before us. This," he said holding it up and turning so his chest was visible. "Is to clean off the burn marks."

"Oh" Goll said meekly, the adrenaline of the past few arns starting to take its toll.

"What's the big idea Scorpy? I was in the middle of this dream where you were locked in this guy named Zeke's basement. Braca you were there, **'**course you had a gag in your mouth and I had this bitchin' sword…"

"Did you have anything to do with this?" Scorpius demanded, snatching John's throat.

"Get your goddamn hands off me!" John choked out.

"Did you?!" the guttural Scarran tones involuntarily bursting through.

"I have no idea what you're talking about you freak!"

Scorpius regarded him for a moment Satisfied he released his grip. How Crichton had managed to deceive him on that ill-fated Command Carrier still puzzled him, but since the end of the war with concentration Scorpius could read his energy signature as accurately as anyone else's. And this time it appeared Crichton was telling the truth.

"Less than arn ago Moya arrived in orbit"

"She's here? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Over the last few arns we have lost all feeds from our surveillance devices on the planet, a four man Shadow team was found killed and stripped of their uniforms and now Moya will not respond to our hails. Oh, and your son, along with his companions, went missing."

"You lost my son?!"

"On the contrary, John, I know exactly where he is."

"Goll that urge to shoot you is rising again" Relex snarled.

"I'm working as fast as I can, this isn't exactly like the one they had on Moya."

"Actually, it _is_ exactly like it" Lind corrected, entering Command with Felina and Sparky in tow.

"Huh?"

At that very moment D'Argo placed the tune he heard earlier in the hall. His father used to whistle it ad nauseum whenever he was working on something in the garage. Drove his mother crazy. But that would mean…

"Pilots have locked on sir, awaiting orders."

"Even with the command collar, the Leviathan can move. Have them target propulsion. I want her weakened, not dead. Is that understood?"

"You're walking a dangerous line here Scorpy." John warned, unable to act as he was being restrained by two guards.

Sparks erupted from the console, driving a shrieking Goll back.

"I can't do it. They have the collar wired directly into the ship's neural cluster. We try cutting the line, it will kill the ship."

"Prowlers have opened fire" Pilot said frantically over the clamshell.

"Frell! Never, our plans never work!" Relex thrust his hands up in exasperation.

Felina bit her lip, a gesture she only made during moments of intense stress. It was not the Prowlers or actively participating in an assault that directly led to the deaths of Peacekeepers that worried her. No, it was what she was about to do.

Her genetics had been altered long ago to hide her true heritage and she faced none of the ill effects that plagued her half-brother. When she first found D'Argo and his crew on the commerce planet and learned of the effect the bio-modification had on him, she knew she did not have to share the wormhole knowledge that Scorpius so desperately sought.

Scorpius most certainly also realized this, thus prompting Felina to integrate herself into their circle of friends. Hopefully making her useful enough that Scorpius would not dispose of her the way he did with others that outlived their usefulness to him. But if they were all captured on this day, then she would most certainly meet an awful fate at his half-Scarran hands. She only had one logical course of action and it was causing her to gnaw on her lip.

"Move," she ordered tersely pushing Goll out of the way of the console. She worked frantically as everyone in Command stared at her in stunned silence. The room shuddered once more, but this was different that the Prowler blasts.

"We are free," Pilot exclaimed appearing in the clamshell "Initiating starburst."

"Sir, they are…"

"Stop that ship!"

"They are gone."

John stared at the empty viewscreen in dumbfounded silence. His life had been turned upside down and thrown out the window recently. He now had a daughter, a wife he didn't dare try to contact and the fate of the frelling universe to worry aboutOn top of everything else, now his son had just stolen his getaway ride. Nevertheless, he could not help but appreciate what he'd just witnessed. The chip off the old block shook a Peacekeeper tail, boarded a Peacekeeper**-**controlled Leviathan, took the sumbitch over, released the control collar and left Scorpy with nothing but his thumb up his butt. _Pretty damn cool._

"How Steve McQueen was _that?_" John remarked, a grin spreading across his lips

"Who are you?" D'Argo asked gravely, pointing his pistol at Felina.

"D, wha- what are you doing?" The celebratory smile disappearing from Goll's face.

"D, brother, put the gun down" Relex said soothingly stepping in between them, blocking his line of fire.

"Get out of the way Relex." D'Argo said grimly, moving to reacquire his target.

"Not until you put the gun down."

"Guido" D'Argo ordered, motioning for him to move Relex.

The Faecrian hesitated, attempting to see the logic in what was taking place.

"_Now_, Guido!" D'Argo demanded, the firmness in his voice quieting the warrior's apprehension.

"I'll only ask you once more" D'Argo insisted once Relex had been removed from the standoff.

"I do not kn…" she began indignantly.

D'Argo cut her off, addressing the captive soldier. "Peacekeeper, how come you didn't release the control collar?"

"Because it had a Level 12 security clearance code in place, the highest security setting I am aware of" he responded from his restrained position in the corner.

"Lind?"

"There is no way she enough time to slice the code," her tone affirming the truth in her words. "She must have known it."

"Last chance before I remove all doubt with Molly here" D'Argo said, waving the pistol but keeping its aim firm.

"My name is Felina Kar'uche Graza" she said proudly before her voice dropped icily. "And you should not have pointed a gun at me."


	8. Not Admitted Without Parent

Chapter 8: Not Admitted Without Parent

"_Sometimes, son, when you find yourself in a hole of your own making, the only thing you can do is take a step back and appreciate the workmanship."_

His heavy head rested cumbersomely in his bruised and shredded hands, compliments of the sharp and unforgiving armor that Chaz'ri had been wearing_. Frell, Chaz'ri is dead. Lind shot and killed him._

The mere weight of those statements replaced all the physical pain he felt, in his hands, his battered face and body, not to mention the elephant in the cargo bay that was the fact he had killed someone tonight.

D'Argo could at least lie to himself and say he could handle it, but he'd brought Lind down with him. It was not some faceless mugger, a Peacekeeper commando or Scarran nightmare that she shot. It was the only person who D'Argo ever felt jealous of in her life. Her father was an uninvolved nitwit that cared more about polls than progeny, the other boys at school were either too intimated to hit on her or too dumb to have an approach that would actually work.

But Chaz'ri, he was her rock. As much as he hated to admit that fact, its validity was undeniable. It was him she ran to, his shoulder she cried on when they had arguments, and D'Argo had despised him for it. Of course, Chaz'ri made no attempt to hide his own contempt for D'Argo, but he was used to icy stares and faux benevolence when entering the Thanos household. But the old Guardian was dead now. The sheer irony of Lind shooting him in the back would be enough to make a cynic laugh.

_What was it that Philosophy professor said? Oh, yeah, Life is a comedy for those who think, and a tragedy for those who feel._

_What now?_ He tried to make his exhausted brain think.

Lind Thanos looked at her young lover, crumpled in defeat on the cargo hold floor. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion and guilt, his scarred hands holding his head with the last vestige of strength he possessed. Her body was still cold from the downpour on the planet in their wake, even wrapped in his leather coat. His faint musk mixed with the grimy scent of the cargo hold.

The memory of what had transpired a few short arns ago began to claw its way back into her mind. The crash of the few possessions they had bought and picked out together that decorated their tiny apartment. The blood flowing from D'Argo's face as though that was its intended purpose. Her beloved Chaz'ri, face contorted almost beyond recognition with bloodlust and rage.

Then the sickening lightness of the pulse rifle in her hands. The weapon should have been as heavy as the responsibility of firing it entailed. Then the vibration as it fired, the wet thud of the impact, and the odor of burned plastic and blood and flesh and innocence lost creeping into her nose. The agony in his voice as he called out to her, an agony that was not caused by physical pain.

Her body reflexively cringed as her mind demanded she scream, cry, mourn, but she couldn't. The wound was too fresh to be examined. Instead she silently crossed the room to the only temple she had to pray for absolution in, the only solace in this life or the next; his arms.

She knew he heard her approach, but D'Argo didn't raise his head. Whether from exhaustion or shame, it didn't matter. They both needed to heal, but that would take time. Tonight, they would merely try and stop the bleeding. She knelt down in front of him and placed her soft, clean hands on his wounded knuckles.

He flinched at first, but then leaned forward to melt into her chest. He looked up to face his love, her pale skin flushed with an amalgam of emotions. They both had so many things to say, but words were incapable of conveying their desires and hurting. He rubbed her face gently, but his hands felt rough against her smooth cheeks. He slowly brought their lips to together, his metallic from dried blood, hers salty with hidden tears.

A few soft kisses grew into a sensual exchange. She climbed into his lap to straddle him, her small, firm breasts pressed against his lean, muscular chest. She raked her fingers into his hair and gripped strongly as if to keep from leaving the moment. He kept his hands at the sides of her face, unwilling to relinquish the comfort it gave him.

Lind pulled back and tugged at his shirt. The look in her eye was not that of a teenage lover, wide and anxious, but that of a poisoned soul searching for the antidote. His shoulders screamed in agony as he pulled his shirt off, but he was becoming accustomed to ignoring pain and nothing was going to ruin this first time.

He leaned back against the bulkhead, shivering in pleasure as her searching, supple lips found the joint of neck and shoulder, teeth nipping delicately, her wet and giving tongue bringing him back from the abyss of self-recrimination and shame. He brought her face back to his and kissed her passionately as he slipped his coat off her shoulders and unbuttoned her night shirt.

Her dark-rose, perky nipples contrasted sharply against the smooth skin they rested upon. She brought his head into her and rolled her shoulders to envelop him between her breasts. Her skin was still pebbled with gooseflesh but he felt it warm against his cheeks. He teased a nipple with the tip of his tongue, her soft moans accompanying the compressed stiffening in his pants, pain and pleasure in equal measure.

Lind rhythmically ground her pelvis against his as he tenderly grazed the pink flesh with careful teeth. Her eager hands, relenting to her base desires, went to his pants buckle. The cargo hold floor was cold and unforgiving, but its discomforts were lost in the summit of need that took place upon it. She raised just enough to remove her own bottoms and lowered herself slowly onto him.

A small wince on her face and then a triumphant smile accompanied the silky slide of entry, the sweet relief of warm, wet velvet enfolding him. D'Argo clenched her backside, fingers digging into the yielding flesh as he pulled her closer.

Lind bit her lip out of ecstasy and necessity, mindful of the others just a bulkhead away. They moved in slow-motion at first, building heat, matching rhythms. Her lips resting on his forehead, his face lost in her damp hair. She squeezed his shoulders tightly as the pace quickened, her soft moans replaced by a shortness of breath and bittersweet whimpers of joyous tenderness.

D'Argo felt the twinges of pressure begin to form at the apex of his thighs but ignored the longing that was building there, instead pressing his face once more against her soft skin, blazing moist trails of searching kisses to make her hiss with pleasure. The intoxicating combination of Lind's uniquely familiar scent and the heady perfume of sex dizzied him.

Their grinding was reaching a pinnacle, her nails digging further into D'Argo's shoulders, the rapture of the moment masking the wince that reflexively crossed his face from her frantic grip.

"Hold me." Her whole upper torso and face flushed rosily as her hips began to quake with climax.

D'Argo embraced her tighter, letting his own barrier fall under the massive drive of her hips, the powerful internal muscles repeatedly clenching and relaxing around him. A hushed squeal in his ear tipped him over the edge as his body found its own release. Church bells, fireworks, earthquakes, all the things he'd scoffed at in the movies cascaded without warning across his overloaded senses in tandem.

His body demanded him to untense and dissolve into the wall, but Lind had already gone limp, the tension in her melting away in that moment of aspiration and embracing the dénouement.

D'Argo fought off the exhaustion and held her close, whispering soothing nonsense, offering her the only security he could muster at the moment. Soon, there would be talking, tears and perhaps anger. But not now. Now there was only one soul split between two bodies and it needed to rest.

"Moya, Dad. Mo-frellin'-ya. I just can't believe I'm actually here," D'Argo spoke into the empty cargo hold. This ship had been their home for seven solar days so far and it still seemed surreal to him. He was living in a freakin' fairytale; his home was a bedtime story.

"Makes you forget about the killing-people thing, doesn't it?" the disembodied voice said.

"Frell, I hate it when you do that..."

An image materialized of his father sitting casually on one of the large containers, booted feet dangling absently.

"…and, yeah." he responded shortly, not giving the delusion the satisfaction of a remorseful rejoinder.

"So what's your next move, li'l D?"

"Don't call me that, you _know_ I can't stand it."

His Dad gave him a devilish grin. "Answer the question."

'I'm not really sure. We got three large and growingly impatient Faecrian mercenaries wanting to get paid. Pilot keeps starbursting but has yet to tell us where we are headed. The frelling daughter of Mele-On Grayza is onboard…"

"Oooh, she-bitch-of-the-universe progeny, this is getting very interesting."

"No dren, and in the cell next to her is a Peacekeeper officer that the aforementioned mercenaries want to paint the walls with."

"And your crew?"

"Ha! One is star-struck, one love-struck and one grief-struck," D'Argo said, leaning heavily against the bulkhead, suddenly very weary.

Goll had spent nearly their entire time here in the Pilot's den, like he was afraid it would disappear if he left. He was completely obsessed with this ship and her pilot. D'Argo himself was very uneasy around the massive yet docile being and had spent as little time in his presence as possible.

Relex had spent most of the trip drinking to fill the sieve that was all that was left of his heart. D'Argo was not as worried about him now as he was going to be when the galley's stock of alcohol ran out. Lind had been quiet but resolute. Their tryst in the cargo hold had seemed to put a patch on the hole in her emotional psyche, but she was still holding too much in. She had spent much their trip so far arranging everyone's living quarters and familiarizing herself with the intricacies of the consoles in Command.

"And you?" the phantom asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just struck."

"D'Argo?" his newly-acquired comms unit burst to life.

"Yeah, I'm here, Lind."

"You need to come up to the galley right away." Her voice was full of concern.

"Relex?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question. Somehow or other, it was _always_ Relex.

"Relex," she confirmed shortly.

"Right. On my way," D'Argo said, turning to lift the red, white and blue DRD off the crate behind him and set it on the deck.

It had been a weeken and he still got lost on the massive ship. 1812 seemed more than happy to be his guide. The oddly-decorated DRD had attached itself to him as soon as they initially starburst away from the Peacekeepers.

"1812, lead the way." The DRD chirped a response and headed for the opening door. D'Argo paused and regarded the small machine, and without turning around addressed his daydream. "By the way, Dad, this has gotta be the worst painting job I have ever seen."

His father's snort of laughter followed him out of the cargo bay.

"Thirsty?" D'Argo queried. The table, counter and much of the floor were littered with empty bottles.

"Funny." Relex gave a throaty growl. His cloths were disheveled and the beginning of a scraggly beard was forming on his usually-pristine face. His eyes were draped in redness and loss.

"Listen, about…" D'Argo began, taking a seat across from him.

"Just stop. I know what you're gonna say. 'It's not your fault, Relex.' 'You had no way of knowing'…." he responded, swishing the open bottle in his hand.

"Actually," D'Argo cut him off and took the bottle from his hand. He returned Relex's spiteful gaze with a grin and a wink, and took a long pull from his bottle. "I was gonna thank you."

"Thank me?" The strained look in his face was momentarily replaced with blank surprise.

"Sure, even as frelled up as it is with her on board, if she wasn't here to disengage the collar we'd all be rotting in some cell by now and not headed to…" D'Argo trailed off. "Hey, Pilot?" he asked, turning to the clamshell where the image of the Pilot was likely to appear.

"Yes, D'Argo Sun-Crichton?" he responded, right on cue.

"Just D'Argo, and where are we going?"

"I am very busy making calculations; I will inform you when we arrive," he responded dismissively and disappeared. D'Argo regarded the empty clamshell for a moment and turned to an equally confounded Relex.

"He has no frelling idea where we are," D'Argo said with an exasperated sigh.

The two long-time friends locked eyes. They shared an increasingly intense stare, then Relex's defenses began to crumble and a small smile formed at his lips. The smile grew into a grin and shared laughter between the two, more heartily and longer than the situation really warranted. Immediate catharsis. Relex wiped tears from his not-quite-so-desolate eyes and D'Argo clutched his chest as he tried to regain his breath.

"So, what do we do with her?" Relex said evenly as the laughter abated.

"Honestly, got no clue. You talked to her yet?" D'Argo said, deliberately casual.

"Nah, not sure what I would say. Well, I know some of the words I would say. But those are just long strings of cursing," he responded sourly, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah, you're right. Wait till some better dialogue comes to you. I'm gonna have the PK brought up to command for a little chat, which I'm sure everyone will attend. So you'll have some time alone with her, if you want it."

"Thanks," Relex replied softly, his mind already working on what to say.

D'Argo gave him a nod and stood up to leave, but paused.

"And as your attorney in the matter, I would advise you to… take a shower first."

Tech Sergeant Lorrenz Al'cov was scared drenless. He was being brought to the Command of the stolen Peacekeeper Leviathan by three formidably large and very stoic warriors, who reminded him of every nightmare he'd ever had and some he had just heard about. He was convinced he was headed to his execution at their hands.

Even faced with his own imminent demise, he couldn't help but find it odd that these creatures seemed to be taking orders from Sebaceans his own age. As they approached the last corner, Lorrenz's mind was filled with the one cause that had led to this effect.

He was born in space and it seemed he would die there. Chosen at birth to be second-class, a member of the proletariat, the bourgeoisie, a tech.

Ironically, he was chosen well. He was masterful with the most complicated of tools and had a seemingly innate understanding of the mechanics of the infinite intricacies of the various Peacekeeper engines. His prowess garnered him quick promotions and respect from his fellow techs. He was even given the honor of being placed on the crew of Commandant Scorpius' Command Carrier. But even when you're the best tech, you're still a tech. Treated as a subspecies by flight officers, command crews and pilots.

When he reached his breaking point, he devised a plan to garner his own nobility. The problem was, the plan had worked and now he was being marched to his execution.

She hadn't bathed in seven days, she was still wearing the same clothes that she'd come aboard in, her hair was a mess of tangles and her eyes where puffy from stress and exhaustion.

_Frell, she still looks beautiful._

"Hi, honey," a clean-shaven and freshly-showered Relex said.

"Relex!" her head snapped up instantly. "Where have you been? You have got to get me out of here!" Felina ran up to the bars of the cell door.

"Do I?" he responded simply.

She regarded him with a hurt look to which he showed no empathy.

"I'm sorry I lied to you about my true identity. But you have to understand, I did it for your own protection." Her tone was remorseful and earnest.

_Oh, she __is__ good._

"Ah, yes, it's your valiant concern for my well-being that has kept me away for the last few days. You see, I have been trying to come up with a way to return the favor."

"You have got to believe me!" her eyes locked to his in desperation.

"Cut the dren, Felina. You played me! So what's your angle? Fake the capture attempt so you could look like our savior and we would trust you?"

"No! While I am guilty of hiding certain details from you, how I ended up on the commerce planet was the truth. My mother—"

"Mele-on frelling Grayza!"

"Yes," her lip coiled in preparation for a scathing response, but she curtailed the instinct. She may not possess her mother's Heppel gland, but she could break this boy. "She was assassinated when I was a child by my jealous father and when I discovered the truth, I fled for fear of my life. Our meeting was coincidence, nothing more."

She gave him the combination of innocent eyes and remorseful face and could sense his defenses begin to crumble. He would be hers before the end of the arn.

The door to Command opened with a hiss. Two young men and a woman, all grim-faced and armed, were staring him down as he was shoved inside. His hands restrained in front of him, he lowered his head and waited for the inevitable pulse blast.

Instead an ear-splitting shriek erupted all around him. At first, he thought they meant to torture him before he died but everyone else seemed just as surprised and distressed.

"Pilot!" D'Argo screamed over the sound, hands pressed over his ears.

A few painful moments passed before silence. Everyone looked around, dazed. Lind looked at D'Argo in sudden concern.

"What?" he asked defensively in response to her stare, and then he felt it.

"Your eye…" She pointed.

"It's twitching," Goll added, also seeing the involuntary movement.

D'Argo brought his hand to his face and felt the muscle below his eye constrict and squeeze his eye shut.

"You have got to be kidding me! This is only happening to me?" he looked around, the Faecrians, the Peacekeeper, Goll and Lind all refusing to make eye contact. "Well, aren't I the special one? Mr. Popularity!"

"We have a situation," Pilot declared appearing on the Command clamshell.

"That's an understatement, Pilot, what the frell is going on?!"

"It's a Paddac Beacon," Lorrenz said inadvertently as he realized the origin of the sound.

D'Argo drew his pistol and leveled it at the bound prisoner.

"Sing."

The Peacekeeper gave him a look of utter incredulity. "You…you want me to…?"

"Honestly, D'Argo, you never learn, do you?" Lind **snapped. She made steely-eyed contact with the captive and translated**. "Tell us about this beacon."

Al'cov licked his lips nervously and cleared his throat. "When a Paddac Beacon no longer receives a signal from a control collar, it broadcasts a transmission that increases exponentially till it's answered with the proper code or is deactivated. If a Peacekeeper ship is in the vicinity, then it will know where we are."

"So what stopped the blaring?" Goll asked.

Pilot answered, "I was able to neutralize the sound, but the signal is still broadcasting. Moya and I have encountered one of these devices before. However, we were under the impression that since the control was released by a High Council override code that the beacon would be rendered inert."

"All the code did was suspend its activation for a weeken. The Beacon must be taken offline manually."

"Moya has already had one of these devices removed manually and the strain nearly killed her. Another option must be pursued," Pilot said with finality.

"Can _you_ disengage it?" Lind asked him.

"Yes, but only on one condition."

"Oh, _this_ should be good."

**If the pretty female thought her withering tone would intimidate him, she was very much mistaken. Contempt was a part of his daily milieu, and he had nothing to lose at this point. Al'cov straightened his stance and stated his demand with firm tone that accompanies having nothing to lose.**

"You let me remain on board."

Out-of-the-question looks crossed all three faces at the same time.

"Listen, I am not really a Peacekeeper officer. My real name and rank is Tech Sergeant Lorrenz Al'cov. That's right, I'm just a tech. Well, if I'm being honest, a really good tech. But I got tired of watching the ships I spent countless arns fixing being taken out into space by ungrateful pilots and wrecked. So I forged a new ident and got myself put on a Leviathan crew as a second officer. Of course, had I known what Leviathan I would end up on or what would end up happening…"

"You should execute him if he does not assist," a Faecrian boomed, approaching the prisoner. Lorrenz shrank back in fear.

"We are not going to execute him, Sparky. Besides, where is the honor in killing an unarmed man?" D'Argo responded. The Faecrian seemed to regard the objection for a moment and then took a blade from his waistband and began to place it in the frightened tech's hands.

"_Give_ me that," D'Argo said, crossing the space between them and snatching the blade away.

"What do you think, Pilot?" Goll asked.

"Both Moya and I agree that if he removes the beacon that he should be released unharmed."

"May I interject?" Lorrenz asked timidly.

"No!" everyone seemed to say in unison.

"Seriously, just take a microt." He tried again, unabated.

"Fine, what?" D'Argo sighed, relenting.

"You know my situation. You release me, and I either go into hiding and get caught, because incidentally – and I only bring this up because I feel it's pertinent – I'm not very good at hiding. Or I go back to the Peacekeepers willingly. Either way, they shove me in the aurora chair, rip my mind to shreds and then execute me for forging my identity. Or for being irreversibly contaminated. Or because my eyes are green, it really doesn't matter."

"We are not letting you stay on board," D'Argo said firmly.

"Hear me out. I am the finest tech you'll ever find and I have studied Leviathan anatomy and mechanics. Trust me, you'll need someone like me sooner rather than later. And I can modify Moya's sensors to better detect Peacekeeper ships."

"How do we know you won't betray us?" Goll asked.

"To who?! To the Peacekeepers? Green eyes, remember?"

"If you're not going to kill him, can we at least cut him a little?" Sparky wheedled, like a child wanting a treat before dinner.

"Sparky, you seriously have some issues you need to work out." Lind gave him a disproving glance.

"Pilot, you catch all that?" D'Argo asked, approaching wits end.

"Indeed, D'Argo Sun-Crichton. While Moya and I are naturally distrustful of Peacekeepers, we have seen that when put in a position like Tech Sergeant Al'cov that they can be trustworthy."

"Like my mother," he responded quietly. Had his father and the crew of Moya not taken a chance on her, then he wouldn't even exist.

"Indeed," Pilot replied simply.

"Fine. Release him," D'Argo said, placing his hand on his face in a vain attempt to keep his eye from twitching.

"Now, what are we going to do about Felina?" Lind asked.

"Oh, you should defiantly kill her," Lorrenz jubilantly advised as an annoyed Sparky released his bonds. The air in the Command seemed to freeze as he got glares from everyone. "That was a joke," he backpedaled through a nervous smile.

"Not a very funny one, tech," Felina said scornfully as she strode into Command, Relex in tow.

Everyone's response was the same draw their weapon and point it at her. She responded by coolly raising her hands, unintimidated.

"Uh, Relex, a _word_," D'Argo said, keeping his pistol aimed as he moved over to him.

Relex gave him a nod to talk outside in the passage way. Lind and Goll followed, equally confounded with Relex's decision.

As Lind passed the three Faecrians, she paused when she came to Sparky.

"She moves or even has a dirty thought," she turned to look Felina in the eye. "Don't hesitate to show her what her insides look like."

Sparky merely grinned at the true vindictiveness that only surfaces from the contempt of one female for another.

"Have you gone completely fahrbot!" Lind admonished as soon as they were out of earshot.

"This is frelling insane, even for you Relex!" Goll added.

"You had better have a hell of an explanation." D'Argo said evenly, giving Relex a chance to speak.

"I know it seems crazy, but you gotta realize who she is."

"No dren! The daughter of Mele-on Grayza! We read about her in history class, for frell's sake. We need her off the ship and as far away as possible," Goll said nervously, but with a resolution that he had never shown before. The usually timid Goll once again seemed to be gaining the most from this ill-begotten adventure they were on.

"I agree, let's space the tralk and be done with it," Lind said venomously.

"I'm not sure killing her is the answer," D'Argo replied, instantly regretting it at the malicious glare from Lind's eyes. He really would have to remember that when it came to women Lind was jealous of, it was best to merely agree with whatever she said. "Right, into space she goes," he said sardonically.

"Goll is right," Relex said coyly. "That is the daughter of Mele-on Grayza in there. Now, it's time we stop thinking like kids and embrace what we have become."

After getting a confused look from his friends, Relex continued.

"Outlaws. We are wanted men and women here, people! Pay attention! We were on a no-name commerce planet with fake identities and they still found us. And if Felina had not released the collar, we would all be stuck in a PK cell right now."

"You're assuming she didn't have anything to do with them finding us there," Lind argued, her eyes narrowing.

"She's got a point," D'Argo quickly added, hoping that would get him out of trouble.

"Even if that's true, you're all still missing the point. We let her go or kill her; we are losing the only advantage we have."

"And what is that?" Goll demanded.

Relex looked at him for a moment and then leaned closer to him.

"It what's gangsters call…" and then whispered something into his ear.

The look on Goll's face instantly changed. He eked out the one-word answer to Relex's seeming madness at releasing their prisoner.

"Leverage."

"Go on," D'Argo said, looking to Relex with raised eyebrow.

"She played me, us, down there. So I say we return the favor. We let her think we trust her and let her become a member of the crew. Then when the Peacekeepers come back around we have a chip to bargain with."

They all stared at the grinning Relex as he basked in their surprise and appreciation of his devious plan. Of course, he neglected to mention the one potential flaw in his otherwise flawless plan. Could he really play the girl that stole his heart and not believe the lie himself?

It had been a big day. They had two new crew members, Pilot had yet to disclose exactly where they are going and the impatient Faecrians were starting to get antsy. It was the middle of the sleep cycle but D'Argo need to think.

"Why are they after us?" D'Argo asked into the immense expanse of space in front of him, magnificently displayed from Moya's terrace

"That's the big money question, ain't it?" the familiar voice of his father said as the figment stood next him, seemingly as lost in the cosmic art scene as he was.

"You know what the problem with Peacekeepers, Scarrans, and just about everyone out here is? Lack of vision. That's why me and your mother survived the way we did. That was our secret."

"Care to share?" D'Argo half-chuckled, as if his own daydream could give himself advice.

"Stop looking at the stars, son, and see the light," he replied, turning to face D'Argo.

The hairs on the back of D'Argo's neck stood up as a chill ran down his spine. The phantom had weight, detail.

"You're not just daydream, are you?" he asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

"I think we both know the answer to that."

"Then…" he managed, confused.

"So what am I? A figment of your imagination? A hallucination of using the serum in space? The doc did warn you not go back into space, didn't he?" He started to slowly circle D'Argo, his icy-blue eyes widening further with each passing theory.

"Or am I a manifestation of your unconscious mind brought into existence from the stress of the gland? You remember he said, 'You're a unique species. No one is exactly sure how your brain works.' Or maybe when you weren't looking, Felina put a Neural chip in your head and chose this form to gain your trust. Wouldn't that be a hoot? Or maybe it's the answer you fear the most."

D'Argo's breath caught on a lump in his throat. He had feared only one thing since the night he'd overheard the conversation between his parents all those cycles ago.

"You're…just…frelling…crazy," the ghost whispered the taunt into his ear.

"NO!" D'Argo yelled, recoiling from the voice. It can't be. Not to him. It had to be something else. He looked around for the phantom but the terrace was empty.

"Dad?" he asked meekly into the desolate emptiness.


End file.
